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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244339">Silver Linings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream'>MashiarasDream</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Angst, Dean is not always a reliable narrator in his interpretations of what’s happening, Discussions of mpreg, Flashbacks, Fucked up society, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Dean, Past Abuse, Past Non-Con, Past Starvation, Pet!Dean, Slave!Dean, Slow Burn, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!Castiel, clueless!Cas, detailed food descriptions, mentions of unwanted body modifications, no abuse between Dean and Cas, no non-con between Dean and Cas, omega!dean, omegas have no rights in this society, past Dean/Lucifer, past dean/michael, past sexual/physical/emotional abuse, self-deprecation, throwing up, unwilling owner!Castiel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:26:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>121,816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27244339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s masters, Michael and Lucifer, have killed each other. It’s not exactly out of character for them, but it means that their omega-pet changes hands with the rest of their property, inherited by their younger brother Castiel, an Alpha who has never wanted a pet and who doesn’t want Dean, either. Problem is, he has to keep him, at least until the investigation into the double murder is closed. Owned by an Alpha who’d much rather get rid of him? Dean doesn’t think it bodes well for him. </p><p>A story in which Dean’s expectations get shattered because Castiel turns out to be unlike any Alpha he’s ever met, and in which Castiel figures out that the rules can’t answer every question and sometimes you have to make it up as you go.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Balthazar/Gabriel, Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Destiel ✦ The Road To Freedom</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Let me warn you that this setting is dark. Of course Dean and Cas are their own kind of light, but they also accept a lot of awful stuff as normal because in their society it is and Dean especially doesn’t always see that he deserves for the world to treat him so much better. Please tread carefully with this story. </p><p>I'm trying to tag for everything important, but if you find a tag missing, please let me know. More tags will be added as I write more.</p><p>As always, there will be no set posting schedule because I’m awful at those. I have however already written around 80k words of this, so there’s definitely more to come in the near future. </p><p>Title art by tinnydandelion! Thank you so much! &lt;3</p><p>Last but not least, thank you to Infinitywritten for betaing! Love you!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing Dean notices is the irritation in the deep voice. The deep voice is new, it has only shown up about an hour ago. He’s been kneeling here ever since. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But why me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s part of your inheritance,” the laconic second voice answers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s gotten to know that voice already. It belongs to the lawyer. The lawyer’s the one who told him to kneel for his new owner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But there were others, yes? And you’re not trying to make me take them home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice wouldn’t even be unpleasant, Dean thinks, if it wasn’t angry. As it is, it doesn’t bode well for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The others were property of the club, they are going into auction together with the club itself,” the lawyer explains, his voice assuming an overly sweet tone like he’s faking his patience. “This one was your brothers’ personal property. He goes to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I have no interest in having a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” The word is sneered, the disgust not hidden in the slightest. “Much less one that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>inherited</span>
  </em>
  <span> from my brothers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean flinches at the words, even though he understands it logically. Alphas want to break in their own pets, train them themselves. And Master Michael and Master Lucifer have a reputation in the industry. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Had </span>
  </em>
  <span>a reputation. It’s gotta be clear that over the years they shaped Dean into a toy specific to them. As an inheritance, this Alpha is offered little more than a useless body. Conditioned to behave only in the ways Master Michael and Master Lucifer want. Mind inflexible after years of serving the same Alphas. Not young or pretty enough to be arousing. Too old for breeding. Not trained for anything else than his masters’ kinks and pleasures. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you don’t want him, you can always sell him on,” the lawyer placates. “It shouldn’t take more than a month or so until we get the go ahead to make financial transactions with your inheritance.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t there - a shelter or something he could go to?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to disappoint, Castiel, but with the murder investigation, you have to hold all of your brothers’ assets for now.” It’s clear that the lawyer attaches a shrug to it, even if Dean can’t see it. The lawyer doesn’t give a fuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then, I guess I have no choice.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s said with a heavy sigh of defeat and there’s a spark of something that was once anger in Dean’s chest at the words. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, try to be me for five seconds and then talk to me about having no choice.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><span>He stomps down on it before it can ever make it to his scent. </span><em><span>Choice </span></em><span>is a loaded word anyway. Both Master Michael and Master Lucifer thought it great fun, playing games like that</span> <span>with him. </span></p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You chose this, pet.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean averts his thoughts quickly. Can’t get lost in his mind, not today. Not when he has a new master. One who doesn’t want him on top of it. It’s gonna make it even more difficult, keeping the Alpha appeased enough to come out of this in one piece.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I fear that is the truth. For now, you have to take him. But I don’t think he’s gonna be too much trouble, he seemed well-behaved so far. Your brothers always were attentive when training omegas, especially pets.” The lawyer sounds satisfied with that, but then his voice turns a shade darker, like he’s suddenly worried. “Just make sure to keep his value where it’s at. At least until the investigation is over and we have full control over the financials.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep his value?” Dean’s new owner asks, derision clear in his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other man sighs, fake patience getting thinner. “His </span>
  <em>
    <span>resale </span>
  </em>
  <span>value. Your brothers had other things on their minds than their pet lately, so he’s somewhat malnourished, but otherwise he’s mostly uninjured. So, you can use him, re-train him, whatever, but keep any punishments to something that heals quickly. Don’t add additional scars or broken bones. Feed him a few times a week. Don’t kill him. That should be simple enough even for you, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s new owner scoffs and doesn’t deem it necessary to answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ball of dread in Dean’s stomach grows. A new owner that scoffs at not killing him is not good. If the Alpha doesn’t even give him a chance to prove that he can be good, if he’s so annoyed that he has to take care of his brothers’ old toy that he can’t be bothered to feed Dean at all, what then?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously, Castiel?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lawyer sounds unamused now, like the Alpha has answered after all, only not with words. Dean wouldn’t know, he’s trying his very best to stay as still and unnoticeable as he can and look at nothing but his hands and the few square inches of floor in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Crowley, seriously,” the Alpha bites. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lawyer sighs. “Tsk, tsk. Good thing you pay me well. Now take your property and leave me to deal with the rest of it. I’ll call you when I have any news.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t even wait for a goodbye, just turns around, the clip-clop of his shoes disappearing down the hallway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a shift in the air as the Alpha’s - Castiel’s? - attention shifts to Dean. Dean resists the urge to cower, keeps his posture straight, his hands on his thighs and his gaze to the floor, like Master Michael taught him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hopes the Alpha will tell him if he prefers it otherwise before he punishes him. Lucifer liked it when Dean waited for him with his forehead to the ground, as small and helpless as he could get. But Lucifer also liked to keep Dean’s hands tied behind his back unless there was something that he wanted of Dean that he would need his hands for. Both masters punished him if he knelt wrong or if they caught him quickly switching positions when he expected the one and it was the other who came home first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lawyer hasn’t done anything to restrain Dean, hasn’t even put a leash on him, so Dean went for the more classical kneeling position. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only now, he’s not sure whether it was the right choice, because the Alpha is still staring. He’s come a step or two closer, polished black shoes and equally black slacks having wandered into Dean’s view. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a bit terrifying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If the Alpha actually wanted him, it might be an inspection. He hasn’t looked Dean over before, hasn’t seen where he’s got scars and whether his body is in any way appealing, or whether he finds things that he immediately wants to correct. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, the Alpha doesn’t want him. Which means he’s probably thinking about how to get rid of Dean the fastest while getting around the stipulations of the inheritance. Dean swallows hard. He’s just thought it, how old and used up he is. No one told him his resale value, but it can’t be that high. And the Alpha’s wearing these really nice and shiny shoes that are probably expensive. Meaning he’s rich like his brothers. Meaning he can easily pay any difference in Dean’s value - or for a replacement for him, if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>accidentally </span>
  </em>
  <span>damages him beyond repair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s almost enough to make Dean open his mouth and try to plead. To try to convince the Alpha that he can still be good for something. Anything. That he can be pleasing. That he won’t be that hard to retrain. That he won’t be difficult and it’s not necessary to dispose of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But of course talking out of turn would only prove that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>in fact difficult. That even after so many years his training hasn’t properly taken. That he forgot as soon as his masters had too much on their minds fighting each other to punish him often enough to constantly be reminded of his training by the pain in his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he stays quiet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, instead of his mouth, his stomach does the talking for him. It lets out a loud growl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cringes and flushes and his stomach promptly growls again. He can’t help it, it’s just a reaction because in the bustle of the past couple of days no one really thought about feeding him. But it’s a prompt reminder that he comes with tasks. That he has to be taken care of, however minimally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs, the noise having him ripped out of whatever he was contemplating while looking Dean over. “Do you have any clothes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Dean a moment to process and then to gather enough spit in his mouth to make his voice work. “Yes, Alpha,” he nods and freezes for a moment, because he’s not sure that that was the right address. But the Alpha doesn’t strike him, so it must be okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are they?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm,” Dean’s forehead wrinkles. “I don’t know, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know where your own clothes are?” The irritation is back full force.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can’t help it, he cowers after all. The one advantage that the falling out between Master Michael and Master Lucifer had had, was that they had mostly forgotten about him. They spent no more time or thought on him than the occasional angry fuck to let off steam. No time for training, no time for punishments. Dean had almost gotten used to not getting beaten. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They are the masters’ clothes,” Dean whispers. “I don’t need to know where they are, only wear them whenever they’re given.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s just a word by word repetition of what he was taught, but his hands cramp into his thighs when he notices how much like defiance that sounds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what Master Michael and Master Lucifer taught me, Alpha.” He hesitates. Because he keeps calling this man Alpha, but Master Michael and Master Lucifer are dead, they are not in fact his masters anymore. For better or for worse, this man owns him now. “Master?” he tries out hesitantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” the Alpha replies harshly. “Never that. I’m not your </span>
  <em>
    <span>master</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that answers that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean replies, sounding as meek as he can. The man had said he didn’t want to keep him. Dean shouldn’t have assumed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is another tired sigh before the man seems to pick himself up. “Well then, the situation is as it is. We may as well deal with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean swallows heavily. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dealing with it</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t sound like the Alpha’s assessment of Dean has improved anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s no answer required, so Dean stays on his knees and doesn’t move. If the Alpha is going to get a knife or a gun - well, at least Dean won’t have to worry anymore. Silver lining, he thinks grimly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He loses some of that bravado, though, when the Alpha’s steps come back. In fact, his arms start trembling and then his body starts trembling, even though he’s never allowed them to do that. But he’s pretty sure that dying hurts something awful, even if in the end, there’s nothing left but a still body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re freezing,” the Alpha observes, though Dean is not. “Well, all the better then. Here.” He throws a blanket down at Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It falls to the ground, Dean not moving to catch it. He couldn’t have, cause he didn’t see it coming, but he’s also not even sure he’s permitted. And the Alpha just said he thought it better if Dean was freezing. So he only stares at it. It’s the cream colored blanket from the living room couch. It has to be washed carefully. The staff does that. Dean’s not allowed to touch it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, what are you waiting for? Cover yourself up.” There’s impatience in the Alpha’s voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it was supposed to be a kind gesture? Dean’s confused, but he obeys and brings the blanket around his shoulders with shaking arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” the Alpha nods. “Let’s go then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, maybe not a kind gesture. Maybe the Alpha wants to go outside because disposing of Dean here would be too big a mess in the house. Outside, someone can just roll the body up in the blanket for easy removal and use the hose to disperse any blood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, Dean scrambles to his feet. He doesn’t have any other option that he can see. Running’s not a thing, not even just because of the collar. The Alpha doesn’t even have to have the remote for it. In his fancy shoes and having eaten three times a day every day, he’s definitely going to be faster than Dean with his bare feet and starved stomach. So what’s Dean gonna do? Refuse to move and be dragged out by his hair? No, he’s gonna rather walk on his own two feet and take any minute without additional hurt, thank you very much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha strives ahead with big steps. There’s purpose in them, but Dean’s not sure whether the purpose is leaving the manor behind as fast as possible or moving forward towards an unknown goal. He hurries to keep up, even though the gravel of the driveway cuts into his feet. It’s by design of course. Makes running even less appealing if your feet bleed after the first few steps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, they don’t go far, though, leaving Dean’s feet cut open, but not in any way that would make him unable to walk. The Alpha stops next to a car. Dean expects the telltale beep of the doors unlocking that both Master Michael’s and Master Lucifer’s cars have, but it’s not coming. Instead, there’s the scratch of a key in a lock and Dean can’t resist looking up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a big car. But that’s the nicest description Dean can come up with. It’s huge and golden and ugly as fuck. A Lincoln Continental. Aka the worst. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hastily looks back at his feet when the Alpha turns around to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Best get in the backseat. And try to cover up yourself and your - junk as much as you can.” It sounds vaguely appalled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which Dean is pretty sure means more than that the Alpha is disgusted by omega dick. He’s pretty sure the Alpha is disgusted by all of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods mutely as the Alpha lets him pass so that he can climb into the back of the car. There’s not enough space in the footwell, but then, the Alpha gave him that blanket. So he at least makes meticulously sure that no part of his body touches the upholstery so that his scent won’t cling to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blanket is big enough that he can also make sure to cover the rest of himself. He’s not sure that it’s going to be enough to dampen down his scent, though. He’s gonna smell as stressed out as he is, and since no one’s done much more than tell him to kneel and not move in the past few days, no one’s given him the opportunity to wash, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks down at his hands, then. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. It’s a useful trick, taught to him by a nameless omega at the club some day when they strung him up and Dean was terrified. It helped back then, maybe it will also help to calm him down enough right now for his scent to not bother the Alpha quite as much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They drive for a long time. Dean could try to get a peak at the clock on the dashboard, but he’d rather not have the Alpha look in the rearview mirror just at that moment. It makes no difference anyway. So many things make no difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he can’t help but risk a short glance around when the car slows down in a driveway. The neighborhood looks modest, and so does the house. It’s not the sprawling mansion that Master Michael and Master Lucifer shared. The house looks more modern, too, the lines cleaner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re home,” the Alpha says and kills the engine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sit in silence for a moment before the Alpha with a heavy sigh opens the door, allowing Dean to climb out after him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The driveway is smooth concrete, cold to the touch now that the sun is going down, but no ridges or edges to cut the soles of his feet. It doesn’t seem to serve a purpose other than providing a path to the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course Dean’s feet are already cut up from the way to the car, so it doesn’t take much to open his skin again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on in.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha opens the door and Dean follows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s rug in the hallway, woven from colorful fabrics. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stops and bites his lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on in,” the Alpha repeats with a little more emphasis, and yes, Dean’s heard him and he wants to obey, but...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alpha, I’m - I’m not sure. I think my feet are still bleeding. I can clean up the blood, no problem, but can I, umm, can I put the rug aside for a moment so that I don’t ruin it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha hesitates, his scent changing to confusion and then to something darker that Dean can’t readily place. Dean hunches his shoulders. The Alpha’s gotta see it, though, that Dean is trying to be helpful, right? He gotta see that Dean’s not trying to be difficult. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Crowley said you were uninjured,” the Alpha frowns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Yes, I - mostly I am, Alpha. Just, the gravel in front of Master Michael’s and Master Lucifer’s house, it has sharp edges, and I was trying to keep up with you, and -” He shuts his mouth abruptly. He wasn’t asked for an explanation or excuses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s no further reaction, and Dean squirms until he can’t take it anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Alpha,” he finally breaks. “It’s nothing serious. Not even really an injury. It won’t lower my value. If you don’t want me to move the rug, you can just tie me up outside until it stops bleeding. Please. I don’t think it will even take that long. It was better in the car already.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops talking, though he really kind of hopes the Alpha doesn't look at that option and decides that it's a great idea to tie Dean to a wall somewhere and leave him there for the next four weeks. Cause if there's one thing Dean has learned, it’s that almost nothing is worse than being left alone in the dark with his own thoughts. He'd much rather be used and let the pain ground him than be forgotten. If there's no one there to remind him, it's way too easy to stop being real. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs heavily again and then he nudges the rug out of the way with his foot. "Come on in," he repeats and this time, Dean obeys.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha doesn't even toe off his shoes, just repeats "come on" and leads Dean deeper into the house. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean follows gingerly. The house looks modern from the inside as well and it's well kept as far as Dean can see. There's no smell other than the Alpha's and some cleaning products. No live-in staff then. No other omega, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shudders a little. He's not sure whether that's a good thing or bad. On the one hand, no other omega means no competition. It means the Alpha can't go and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>only the one of you who is best will get fed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It also means no other omega can try to scratch Dean’s eyes out for intruding and taking up what limited resources there are for them. Dean's definitely done that before when one of his Masters brought a pet from the club home to mess with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the other hand, having another omega here might also have helped. Another omega might have been more patient at explaining the house rules than this Alpha is going to be. If the Alpha plans on explaining anything at all. If the other omega didn't see him as a threat - and really, with the Alpha's disgust it's clear that he's not - there might even have been some company that way. Someone to talk to, if the Alpha allows such things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But of course all of those thoughts are wishful thinking and no more. Because there is no other smell than the Alpha's and all that happens is that they end up in a bathroom. It's modern like the house and has tiles so white that Dean feels like he's dirtying the place up just by stepping inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But tiles can be cleaned, so he follows and quickly looks back down at the floor when the Alpha turns around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Give me the blanket."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He holds out his hand and Dean hurries to unwrap the blanket from around his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you know how a shower works?" The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Alpha," Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, that's something. Go take a shower. There's shower gel and shampoo inside."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods, but he doesn't move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What is it now?" There's rustling when the Alpha moves and Dean thinks he's rubbing his head like Dean is giving him a headache. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Umm, the collar, Alpha?" Dean asks warily. Cause while the outside of the collar is metal, the inside is leather and Master Michael has made sure he understands that this is not a cheap collar and that if he breaks it something much less nice and comfortable will take its place. Dean’s seen enough all-metal collars and the way they rub skin raw to know that he doesn’t want that.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," the Alpha starts like he hadn't thought about that. "I can't open it. It reacts to Michael's and Lucifer's fingerprints only."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's Dean's turn to start. Suddenly the collar seems a whole lot tighter with the thought of never again being able to take it off. He swallows against the feeling of budding panic and mumbles. "I'll try to keep it dry, Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, do that," the Alpha nods. "Can you shower on your own?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright. I'll be right back. Wait for me here if you're done before I'm back."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Dean has stepped into the shower, the Alpha has already left the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean finds the soap immediately and he's pretty sure that the mention meant that he's supposed to use it. So that leaves the question of the water temperature. He eyes the fittings nervously. Choosing your own water temperature is a treat for good behavior. Otherwise it gets chosen, and that means usually either ice cold or scalding hot. But the Alpha hasn't specified anything and there's only one lever to produce the water mixture. Dean guesses it's set to the Alpha's favorite setting. So it's probably safest to leave it at that setting, right? So that the Alpha doesn't have to bother with trying to find the right temperature for himself again in the morning? That probably makes up for using some warm water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean decides that it is so because he has no better idea and also because after not having eaten in so long it sounds nice not to have to produce as much body heat to stop from shaking as is necessary after a cold shower. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The water is still ice cold for the first few moments after Dean turns the shower on, but he suppresses his yelp and after a minute, the water warms up nicely. Dean would still like it to be a few degrees hotter, but there's nothing to be done about it, so he goes about washing himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wrinkles his nose at the shower gel. It's heavily scented and definitely made for Alphas. It'll smell ridiculous mixing with his omega scent. It almost makes him sneeze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he washes himself thoroughly. He doesn't linger on his private parts, unsure how much touch is allowed, but he takes care to wash his feet until they're scrubbed clean. It stings, but most of the blood that washes away is old. If he's careful, he can probably walk without messing up the floors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears the door open and hurries to get the suds off of his skin. He's probably taken too long already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when he turns off the water and opens the shower door, the Alpha is nowhere to be seen. There's a fresh, folded towel lying on the stool next to the shower now. Dean is still staring at it when the Alpha comes back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's a frown on his face. "Come on, dry yourself off and then sit down." He waves with something, though Dean only catches the movement out of the corner of his eyes seeing how he's trying hard to keep his eyes on the floor as he should.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he does grab the towel. It's softer than anything he's touched in years. Or at least his memory doesn't provide him with anything that feels similar. He stifles the noise of pleasure that wants to make it out of his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he's dry he folds the towel to put it back on the small stool and sits on top of it. It prompts no other commands from the Alpha, so maybe Dean was just too grimy before and that's why he wanted Dean to cover up? Some Alphas are sensitive to such things after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks then because suddenly the Alpha is in his space. Not towering over him, no, kneeling at his feet and right in his view. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks again because holy fuck, the Alpha is handsome in a way that neither Master Michael nor Master Lucifer were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He's got intense blue eyes, too, that are currently staring right into Dean's eyes and fuck what is Dean doing staring at the Alpha like that? But the Alpha doesn't look away and he doesn't slap Dean, either, and Dean can feel his face and chest flush, because frikking hell, this Alpha's gaze is </span>
  <em>
    <span>intense</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His nostrils widen, too, taking in Dean's scent and there's so much attention on Dean that he has no idea what to do with it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, it's the Alpha who breaks their eye contact. He goes to open the pack he brought with him, his scent getting dark again as he does it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It curls Dean's insides, but he has no time to think about what it means because the Alpha takes up his foot and inspects it and - oh. The pack he brought is a first aid kit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not that bad," the Alpha announces after a moment and Dean could have told him that. Still, it lightens the Alpha's scent and - guilt? Had that dark scent been </span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean's immediately confused, but then, maybe the Alpha had actually not noticed the stones. He'd been wearing shoes after all and his own driveway is concrete. Maybe he'd never thought about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha puts antiseptic on the cuts and then bandaids on the ones that look like they might start bleeding again. It'll make it a lot easier on Dean because he can move around the house without having to watch his every step for fear of bleeding on something he can’t clean. If he gets to move around the house. No way of knowing that yet. Still, "Thank you, Alpha," he says quietly, opting to take the risk of speaking out of turn to show his gratitude. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha nods, scent still disturbed. He looks over his work one more time before looking back up. "Is there anything else where you're hurting? Even if you don't classify it as being injured."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean frowns. He always hurts somewhere or other. He’s so used to it that it fades into the background, only the sharp stab of acute violence making it through. Even with his feet, he hadn’t been concerned about the pain, just about the carpet. “Uhh, my head and my stomach hurt some I guess?” he wagers. “But that’s cause I didn’t get to eat in a while. It’s not a problem, Alpha.” At least not yet. He guesses eventually he’ll have to be fed something or he will pass out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, we can remedy that." The Alpha closes the first aid kit and rocks back up to his feet. "Here," he reaches over to the sink to grab a stack of clothes that Dean had dismissed as unimportant so far. "Finish your business here and put these on. The kitchen is back down the hallway to the left. Find me there when you're done."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean mumbles, "Yes, Alpha," but he's not even sure whether the Alpha hears it because he's already out of the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lets out a breath. That went - well? Dean's not sure, but between the shower and the bandaids and the clothes and now even the tentative prospect of food, he thinks the Alpha has accepted that he's got to take care of Dean for a few weeks. More than that, he seems to be willing to do what Alpha Crowley said and not damage him. Which is good. Better than being a cold body wrapped in a blanket anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he hasn't thought about whether that wouldn’t be easier every so often over the years. Mostly when Master Lucifer had one of his episodes. Master Michael was more or less always the same. Cold, yes. Strict, yes. Unyielding in his punishments. But he was consistent. A rule was a rule. Even if Dean often got hurt quite significantly during punishments administered by Master Michael, he was never quite as terrified of him as of Master Lucifer. Master Lucifer would sometimes give him the rest of a piece of pie he didn’t want anymore and then turn around and not feed him for the next week, without ever telling Dean what he'd done right or wrong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean guesses the jury is still out on which of his brothers Alpha Castiel resembles more, but from his first impression, Dean hopes it will be Master Michael. There wasn’t any pretense of charm and friendliness, like Master Lucifer might have shown a new plaything, to suss out whatever likes and dislikes he could eventually use against them. And the irritation and frustration are something Dean knows well from Master Michael. Of course, Alpha Castiel had contained them much more tightly than Master Michael usually thought necessary. But then, if they are the same, there will have to be an infraction for a punishment. Now infractions aren’t that hard to come by if you only look closely enough, but you need to establish rules for your pet to break them. And Alpha Castiel hasn’t set any rules yet.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he didn’t have them at the ready, seeing how he’s got no pet of his own and possibly doesn't want one at all. And if he is like Master Michael, he will probably not punish without making the rules clear first. There are common sense rules of course, like obeying whatever the Alpha says and not trying to run from him, but it’s been a long time since Dean’s actually broken any of those. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. He wishes Alpha Crowley’s words about not damaging his value actually meant he was somewhat shielded from harsher punishments for the next month. But of course if Alpha Castiel feels like his brothers haven’t trained him right, he can always argue that a broken bone might lower Dean’s value for a while, but the additional training makes him more valuable in the long run. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s no use thinking about this. The rules always favor the owners, never the omegas. It’s just how it is. So Dean better get on with it and find the Alpha before he’s too angry about Dean dawdling and tries out how far he can push Dean’s body before it breaks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean goes to pee even though he doesn’t have to, seeing that it’s been the morning when he last got some water, but it’s always better to use every opportunity that’s presented to him. Then he steps into the clothes. It’s just grey sweatpants and a t-shirt with a 5k run logo on it. Both of them are too loose on him, even though the sweatpants are a little short. Alpha Castiel’s clothes then. They look well worn, but they’re freshly washed and well, they’re clothes. They provide warmth and a little softness in a harsh world. He’s gonna take it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He already wants to leave when he notices that there’s a small rolled-up ball of fabric that fell out of the bundle. He frowns, thoughts immediately going unpleasant places, but the fabric looks too thick and practical to be any omega-specific wear. So he unrolls the bundle and it’s - socks. Thick, warm socks with a geometric pattern that looks like - honeycomb?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks at them perplexed. They might just be the Alpha’s socks and unrelated to the clothes he got. But no, they fell out of the bundle. Maybe the Alpha thinks Dean’s feet will bleed on the carpet after all? But he patched him up, there’s bandaids and everything. Dean blinks. Good pets get clothes sometimes, when it’s cold, when they’ve been exceptionally good, or when their master wants their body hidden from view. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean guesses that Alpha Castiel falls in the last category. Like with the blanket, he wants Dean’s body hidden from view. Whether it’s only for now and he wants to use it later is anyone’s guess, but Dean’s not gonna not enjoy the comfort of clothes while it lasts, just because eventually they will be taken away again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still doesn’t explain the socks, though. Dean doesn’t think anyone wants to hide feet from view, and also, it’s one of these unspoken rules. Pets are not supposed to leave the house, and being barefoot encourages them to not even try. Dean’s not sure when he had worn socks the last time. Stockings, yeah, sometimes, when Master Lucifer wanted to show him off. They were complimenting the lingerie. But honeycomb socks are not lingerie. They are sturdy and for warmth and comfort and serve no purpose beyond that. He doesn’t need them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But of course he still puts them on. The Alpha gave them to him, after all. He wiggles his toes in them. It feels funny. Confined, somehow, but also nice, like being wrapped up in a soft duvet. He only notices that he’s smiling after the fact, and makes sure to wipe the expression off his face before he sets out to find Alpha Castiel. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The kitchen is easy to find. All Dean has to do is follow the smell of soup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes his stomach constrict painfully. He tries to dampen down his hope that he might get some of that soup. It’s probably the Alpha’s dinner. Dean's masters had staff, had an actual cook just like they had a gardener and a variety of other hired or bought help. They didn’t need their pet to try out his cooking skills, could keep him just for their pleasure. So Dean guesses his new owner doesn’t think he can make it Dean’s task to serve him his food, even though Dean wouldn’t be opposed to that. And not only because if he cooks he basically has to sample the foods, if only to make sure that everything’s tasty and the Alpha won’t have to eat over-salted vegetables and then punish him for it. No, Dean actually likes cooking. He lacks practice now, obviously, but he thinks he could get back into it quickly enough, if the Alpha asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs. Who is he kidding? He’s a pet, not a cook or even a housemaid. Kneel and crawl, wear enticing lingerie, take the biggest knots, make pretty noises if that’s what arouses his master, scream in pain if that’s what his master gets off on. Be pliant and pliable and remember that your only reason for existence is your master’s pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, Alpha Castiel will not let him cook. Dean’s best guess is that he’ll do what you do with toys that you’re not currently using - you store them away until you feel like entertainment or until you give them away. It’s better than being a cold body in a blanket, Dean reminds himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if he’s left alone for too long, it’ll make him feel like he’s not real again, and he hates that feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, maybe the Alpha changes his mind. Maybe now after Dean’s washed, the scent of the Alpha’s brothers gone, he feels more like giving their toy a trial ride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean's made it to the kitchen then, so he shuts down his thoughts. It’s not his business anyway. All he has to do is wait until the Alpha tells him what he's gonna do with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha is at the stove, stirring a big pot of what Dean thinks is in fact soup. He wills his stomach to keep from grumbling. It doesn't really work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here, Alpha,” he announces quietly, hunching his shoulders and looking at the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh good. This is still not quite hot, it’ll need a little longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no question there, so Dean stays quiet and stays where he is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment, there's the noise of something dropping to the counter top and a stop of motion. “Oh. You’re still there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grinds his teeth even while he tries to appear as submissive as he can. He can try to be as still as possible to not attract attention, but he can’t disappear into thin air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can wait at the table,” the Alpha tells him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean answers obediently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The table is small, just two chairs. It’s got a sturdy wood frame, the color warmer than the white and chrome that make up much of the house’s design choices. Dean’s got no idea which of the chairs is the Alpha’s and whether he even wants Dean by his side, so he kneels down next to the table, hands on his thighs, back straight, head down until he’s staring at his knees. Exactly like he’s learned from Master Michael. He still thinks it’s his best bet to assume Alpha Castiel’s gonna be similar to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a few minutes before the Alpha even looks back apparently because he says "Oh" again when he becomes aware of Dean. And then, like he's remembering something he had forgotten,  "Oh. Yes. Pets are kept on the floor. "</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's not a question, but Dean is too bewildered to notice that he's even talking before it's too late, "Unless their master allows them on their furniture for the master's pleasure." He adds a hasty, "Yes, Alpha," in the end to make it sound like he had actually thought the Alpha had asked a question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, but that is easy then. It would bring me pleasure if you sat on a chair. I'm not used to feeding anyone on the floor like a dog."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, it’s been a long time since Dean had any qualms about any method of getting fed, as long as he actually got a meal every now and then, but after that sentence, he's gotta try hard to school his face into a neutral expression instead of giving the Alpha an unbelieving stare. He thinks his voice still shows his confusion when he answers with his usual, "Yes, Alpha". </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs in what sounds like - a little bit like relief, says, "This chair is usually mine", points to the chair facing away from the kitchen part of the room and turns around on his heel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods and hesitantly sits down on the other chair. The wood is not uncomfortable as such but Dean's still glad he hasn't recently been either fucked or paddled because it's definitely a hard surface. He squirms a little just thinking about being told to sit still here while his ass is on fire. He tries harder for stillness when he notices. No need to give the Alpha any ideas he doesn’t have on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the Alpha is already on his way back to the stove, not paying attention at all. Dean in fact feels safe enough to look up through his lashes to see what Alpha Castiel is doing, even though he makes very sure to keep his hands folded in his lap and his head tipped downward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha moves around the kitchen like he’s used to being there. He checks the soup again, opens a drawer that probably holds cutlery, then goes for a cupboard with china. Dean’s stomach does a happy little jump when two bowls get taken out. Dean tells it to calm the fuck down, because it’s not sure yet that he’s gonna get whatever gets filled into that bowl. Alpha Castiel could still be like Master Lucifer. Master Lucifer had once put a piece of pie in front of Dean and told him that if he sat still enough, he’d get to eat it. He’d said the same thing for five days, and only when the mold had started growing had he given his permission. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eat the whole thing, pet. You earned it. And you wouldn’t want to waste my generosity. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean had thrown up for an hour after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hasn’t worked, though, Dean thinks defiantly, this attempt to train him out of enjoying pie. Dean still likes pie. The only thing that had changed is that he’d hid it better from Master Lucifer after. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alpha Castiel does indeed fill two bowls with soup and brings both of them over. It smells so good that Dean could cry, though maybe any food would do that today. But he doesn’t move his hands from his lap and he moves his eyes back down, too. Maybe the Alpha just wants to show him what he might get as a reward if he follows whatever rules the Alpha will give him to follow. It would be a nice reward. The broth is clear, but there’s a lot of stuff at the bottom of the bowl. Noodles and vegetables and chicken, Dean thinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stomach rumbles again, the emptiness inside it overwhelming. He wrings his hands together in his lap, holding on fast to create a counterpoint of pain, something to hold onto to not do anything stupid. Because the bowl is right there and the Alpha is in the kitchen and Dean could just snatch it and drink it, and it’s too hot and it would burn him, but Dean’s almost sure he could get most of the broth down before the Alpha would come running. It’s almost worth the punishment, but only almost, because Dean doesn’t know yet whether and how often this Alpha is planning to feed him and Dean can only get away with this once. There’s no use in endangering possible future meals through one rash decision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha comes back, carrying spoons and a glass of wine for himself. Dean expects him to sit, but instead he makes the trip to the kitchen once more and comes back with a tall mug that he puts next to Dean’s bowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean eyes it suspiciously and apparently a little too obviously because the Alpha says, “It’s herbal tea. Drink it. It’ll be good for your stomach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean agrees, though he knows his nose wrinkles before he can smooth his expression out again. He should be more grateful. Between the soup and the tea, his headache will almost certainly go away. If he gets to eat the soup. Still, he adds a quiet, “Thank you, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs. "I understand that my brothers were experienced masters where I am not and that you will miss their guiding hand. But since it looks like you’re in my care for the time being, we might as well as try to arrange ourselves with that best as we can.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s glad that he hasn’t actually tried to drink anything yet, because he’s pretty sure he’d have swallowed wrong and accidentally killed himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Miss their guiding hand?</span>
  </em>
  <span> What the hell is this Alpha going to do to him to make him miss Master Michael and Master Lucifer? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is no answer of course, because the Alpha has already started eating. He looks up again after a while, though, or at least he asks. “Are you not hungry? Because your stomach seems to disagree with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am very hungry, Alpha,” Dean admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause before the Alpha asks, “Is this not something that a pet is supposed to eat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I - I don’t know, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean swallows. He’d hoped the Alpha would just state his rules, assuming that his brothers had trained Dean well enough to follow them. But it makes sense, too, that he would want to test that for himself. “It's your decision, Master, whether I eat and if I eat, what and how much I eat. My body is yours,” he says softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not your master, don’t call me that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean flinches. He hadn’t even noticed the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>master </span>
  </em>
  <span>slip in there. “I’m sorry, Alpha,” he apologizes quickly. “Thank you for telling me that rule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure it calms the Alpha down because there is an eerie silence, the Alpha not moving, let alone eating, and the feeling of eyes staring right at him prickly on Dean’s skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hunches a little more, makes himself smaller. Well, if his mistake made the promise of food go away, then it’ll be another bit easier tomorrow to be smaller. Silver linings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But after another long minute the Alpha moves again. He exhales a long breath, and there’s the irritation from the morning back in his scent, but it doesn’t flow over into open anger. Instead, he seems to try to expel it with the deep breathing. Finally, he picks up his spoon again. “Eat the soup. And drink your tea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean hurries to obey, picking up his spoon immediately. “Thank you, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha grumbles something inaudible, but doesn’t stop eating, so Dean dares to dig in, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s heavenly. Like a choir of angels stopped singing and instead invested in spices and heat. Dean’s got to close his eyes, actually, just to stop himself from crying at the feeling of the nice hot soup hitting his stomach. He wants to slurp the whole thing in one big swallow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t. He knows better. Not even only because of the Alpha. He knows he can’t eat fast right now or he’ll be sick. So he takes his spoon and eats one careful spoonful after the other. He makes breaks in between, too, even though he doesn’t put the spoon down. When you get cutlery, then once you put it down, you’re done. A rule Master Michael had taught him, though he had never played with Dean the way Master Lucifer did. There were a lot of ways Master Lucifer managed to make Dean drop a spoon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alpha Castiel doesn’t play any games of that type, either. He eats quietly and watches Dean eat without stopping him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s good. It’s really really good. Dean feels warm and a little fuzzy when he’s done, his body adjusting to the fact that it needs to digest something. He doesn’t really want to destroy the lovely taste of chicken on his tongue, but the Alpha had said to also drink the tea, so Dean pulls the mug closer and takes a tiny sip. It’s nowhere near as good as the soup, but at least it isn’t bitter. There’s probably nothing mixed in with it, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He contemplates it for a moment, how much of a risk it is to let the Alpha know that he had enjoyed this meal. But then, it’s not a big secret that omegas enjoy food. That’s why it’s such a good reward. So he mumbles, “Thank you, Alpha. It was really kind of you to give me a whole bowl of chicken soup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s obviously surprised that Dean talked unprompted, but his scent doesn't get bristly. “I still had it in the freezer. I wasn’t prepared to have you here today, but I think this worked out well. I think your stomach will be able to cope with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It almost sounds like the Alpha chose this food specifically because of Dean. It’s a preposterous thought of course and really it doesn’t matter. Dean’s grateful either way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha puts his spoon down, having finished, too. He takes a big gulp of his wine before he says. “So. What do I do with you now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip and looks back down at his lap. He had almost forgotten that the Alpha doesn’t want him here, the warm food overwhelming Dean’s normally permanent wariness. It had been nice, though, wearing soft clothes and having a warm full stomach. It had felt good for a moment there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would my brothers do now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Dean a moment to notice that it was a question addressed to him. “They’d, umm, make me show my gratitude for having been fed?” He makes it sound like a question, because he thinks they’d be much more likely to beat him up for the insolence of sitting on a chair at the table instead of kneeling on the floor like a good bitch, but Alpha Castiel had </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked </span>
  </em>
  <span>him to sit here, so it’s not the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” the Alpha says. “Show gratitude for food. That’s something pets do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha?” It comes out like a question again because what the hell?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, umm, I’m guessing I know what kind of gratitude you showed my brothers, but we’ve already established that I’m not your master. So are there other ways of showing your gratitude that would be acceptable to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this is getting ever weirder. “Alpha?” Dean asks confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ways where you keep your clothes on,” the Alpha says bluntly and from the way he says it, Dean guesses it means that the Alpha doesn’t want a blowjob, either. "Are there any of those?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could - do the dishes?” Dean proposes because it's the first thing that comes to mind as the dishes are right there. There is not even real fear attached to making the proposal, he’s still way too bewildered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dishes do need doing,” Alpha Castiel says thoughtfully. “Well then, you can do the dishes to show your gratitude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinks because what the everlasting fuck is even going on, but he also obeys and collects their china. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leave the tea. You still need to drink it,” the Alpha reminds him when Dean wants to collect the mug as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean answers, but can’t help blinking again, because the Alpha didn’t demand he drink it right now or get upset that he hasn't done it yet. He offered him more time instead, which sounds a lot like - kindness. Which is something Dean really didn't expect from any brother of his former masters. Or from any Alpha, for that matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Dean’s learned to both project gratitude and stay suspicious of any unearned reward, so he mumbles, “Thank you, Alpha” and brings the china to the sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks the Alpha will leave him alone for the task and do more important things, but the Alpha follows. Dean bites his lip. If the Alpha is the type to micromanage every task it’s probably better to ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha?” Dean asks cautiously. “Is there any specific way you want this task done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” The Alpha had been in the process of opening a kitchen cupboard. “Do I want the dishes done in a specific way?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean says and looks at his socked feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh, just stack everything in the dishwasher? It’s not full yet, I can run it tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, it was good that he asked, because the dishwasher is definitely not a solution Dean would have used. Especially since the Alpha had made him do this task to show his gratitude. Shouldn’t that mean manual work?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the Alpha continues, oblivious, “This cupboard holds the tupperware containers, let me fill the rest of the soup in one of them so that I can put it in the fridge later. You can put the pot in the dishwasher, too, when I'm done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now the Alpha is helping. At this rate, Dean’s gonna get heart palpitations. “I can refill the soup if you want me to, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” It sounds surprised like the Alpha hadn’t even thought about that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes Dean grit his teeth. “I know that I…” He breaks off because this is definitely out of turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know that you what?” The Alpha prompts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean clenches his fingers into fists and starts softer. “I know that I’m a pet, Alpha, and Master Michael and Master Lucifer never used me for anything else. You’ve told me that you don’t want a pet, but I heard Alpha Crowley say that you can’t get rid of me right away.“ Dean cringes at the admission, even though it shouldn't  be a surprise that pets have ears and the Alphas were standing right next to him. He wasn’t eavesdropping. So he barrels on, “And I - I mean I’m not very practiced at other things, but,” - </span>
  <em>
    <span>but before I was a pet, I once was a person</span>
  </em>
  <span> -, “if you give me tasks, I can still be useful to you. I won’t do anything without your permission, and I’ll be very careful with your things, and I’ll try to get it right the first time so that you don’t have to spend much time training me or punishing me, and…” He’s babbling now and the silence from the Alpha has gone on too long. He swallows hard. “But of course I’ll obey you either way. You don’t want a pet, so if you want me out of sight and chained in the basement…” Dean breaks off because his voice has started trembling and he knows he’ll obey, but he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates </span>
  </em>
  <span>being chained in the dark with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. He loses any idea of whether anyone is ever going to come for him so fast in the dark. Even if he’s told beforehand how long he’s got to stay - Master Michael was meticulous about that, his punishments always specified in detail in advance - it doesn’t matter once he’s in the dark. The blackness swallows the world until time is an abstract thing that might or might not be moving forward and the chain to the wall is the only thing that’s real. It had shaken him so badly every time that Master Michael had reserved it as the highest form of punishment, using it only for the most severe breaches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this Alpha doesn’t know that. This Alpha might just see it as a way to store a tool that he’s got no use for. It doesn’t damage Dean’s body, after all. Not as long as he still gets fed every so often. And oh God, the Alpha lawyer had said something about a month before Alpha Castiel can sell him on. He’s never had to spend a month in the dark. He’s not sure he can. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omega.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a large hand on his shoulder and Dean jumps, his body trying to get away even though his mind screams at him to stay still. The hand clamps down, holding his shoulder tight and Dean’s no match for Alpha strength, but he tries to squirm away because he doesn’t want to go into the dark and he’d much prefer it if the Alpha got angry and hit him because at least then he’d still be here where he can see and not alone in the basement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pet! Stay still!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s using his Alpha voice now and that together with the familiar address makes his body lock up. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing the shaking in his limbs to subside. Still. The Alpha ordered still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goddammit.” The Alpha growls. “Over to the couch, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t let go of Dean, steers him through an archway over to the couch in the living room by the upper arm. Dean expects to be thrown to the ground in front of the couch, or maybe over the arm of the couch if the Alpha wants to beat his ass, but instead he gets pushed onto the cushions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean does, and the Alpha leaves, but only for a minute. Then he comes back, holding out the mug of tea that he had made earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drink.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean can’t keep his hands from shaking, so he takes the cup ever so slowly, inching it towards his mouth to keep from spilling anything. He takes a few swallows, shallow ones first, but then he can actually get some of the liquid down, his breathing calming down at least some. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s drunk about half of what's left in the cup the Alpha holds out his hand for it and Dean gives it back. The Alpha puts it on the couch table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, now. What happened just now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Alpha,” Dean whispers, not sure he could get his voice to cooperate for anything louder if he tried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs and then heavily sits down on the couch next to Dean. “What’s your name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Dean mumbles because that’s a thing that both his masters taught him. He’s nothing beyond what he is to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs again. “But you are not my pet, we have established that. So I don’t want to call you that. And calling you </span>
  <em>
    <span>omega</span>
  </em>
  <span> did obviously not make it through. I need a way to address you. If it’s inappropriate for a pet to be called by their name, then what else do you listen to?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that - is so weird. “You can call me whatever you prefer, Alpha.” Which should be obvious, seeing how he owns Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I would prefer to call you by your name,” the Alpha insists. “The one that was given to you by your parent. Are you not allowed to say it anymore after becoming a pet? Or do you not remember it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinks, because what the fuck. Of course he remembers his name. He’s not that old that he would have forgotten that in his years of service. Still, he’s kept the name safe in his head for a long time now. It feels uncomfortable, sharing it with the Alpha. He doesn’t want the Alpha to make fun of it or change it if he doesn’t like it. Still, he sees no good coming of disobeying, either. “I remember it”, he admits quietly. “My name’s Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean,” the Alpha repeats. It sounds relieved. “Good. My name is Castiel, though I’m guessing there are rules about not using that name as well. I’m woefully uninformed, I fear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops there, as if he expects Dean to have some input on that. “I’ll follow your rules, Alpha,” Dean tries out, even though it’s not a thing that needs to be said. It’s not like Dean’s got a choice in the matter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the Alpha seems surprised for some reason. “If I told you to call me Castiel, you’d do that?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm, if you ordered it, then, yes, Alpha?” Dean answers though it’s one hell of a weird question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I told you to look up from the floor and look at me while we’re talking?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm,” Dean answers because he’s pretty sure that his body is on autopilot on this one after years of training. “I’d try, Alpha. You’d probably have to correct me a few times. It’d be - a retraining.” He hangs his head. He doesn’t want to seem like he’ll be a lot of work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I have no intention of training or retraining anyone ever,” the Alpha answers drily, “but I think I might have a compromise. Showing gratitude is a thing, right? Is it only for food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. “No, Alpha. It’s for any work or resources your master puts into you.” Though Dean’s not gonna lie, it’s a hell of a lot easier to be grateful for food than for a whipping, whether the whipping is supposed to help you keep to a new rule or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Then from now on, when there’s something that you feel like you should show gratitude for, you can try to look up at me the next time we’re talking. That would make me feel better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s probably the strangest order Dean has heard in his whole lifetime. Every single Alpha everywhere would slap him into next Wednesday for looking them in the eye like an equal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha.” There really isn’t anything else to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that seems like a good solution,” the Alpha says almost as if he’s talking to himself. “Okay, so, as I told you, I’m woefully uneducated, so I fear we’ll have to play ten questions to figure out how to proceed in the next few weeks. You mentioned something about chains and the basement. Is that where my brothers kept you when they weren’t around?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean immediately tenses and he quickly shakes his head. “No, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm. What did they do with you then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean swallows. “Mostly, I was allowed to move in the house freely. In most rooms anyway. And most of the time. When I was good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” the Alpha nods, “what else were you allowed to do most of the time when you were good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean thinks about it for a moment. “Drink water from the tap. Go to the bathroom to relieve myself, as long as I didn’t lock the door or touch myself unnecessarily.” He blushes at that. Somehow, being fucked is a lot easier than having to ask your master to go to the bathroom. Especially since Master Lucifer would not always say yes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean thinks about it, but there’s not really anything that comes to mind. He wasn’t supposed to touch anything or fall asleep or do anything really, other than wait for Master Michael or Master Lucifer to have use for him. Sometimes there were specific tasks or specific rules put in place, but none of them applied most of the time. So he shakes his head. “Nothing else, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you have any chores that were non-sexual?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To, umm, clean the toys after use. And the implements.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Implements?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like the whip, when I got blood on it,” Dean explains quietly. He hopes the Alpha doesn’t take it as evidence that Dean always needs to be whipped bloody to be good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” The Alpha says neutrally, though his scent turns a whole shade darker. “Well, I’m pretty sure neither of these will be an issue here. What about food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And haven’t they gone over this already? “I eat when my masters think I deserve food. Or - the Alpha who owns me. I remember that you don’t want to be my master, Alpha,” Dean adds hurriedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” the Alpha says. “So I have to feed you every meal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm,” Dean stutters. “You do not have to feed me at all, Alpha.” Though that would damage his value. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was, my brothers had staff. I don’t. What if I don’t have the time to cook? What if I’m not home? What then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I don’t eat, Alpha,” Dean repeats. “I’m trained, Alpha. I won’t steal your food even when I’m hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha groans. “This cannot be the best solution. I’ll have to research something else. I don’t want you to have to go hungry just because I’m coming home late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And - what? Dean almost shakes his head, he’s following so little of this conversation. The Alpha makes no sense. “I mean - I can cook? I could prepare your meal? And you could allow me to eat the leftovers? Or even - have my own bowl? Like today with the soup?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can cook?” The Alpha brightens up. “I thought that was a house-omega thing, not a pet thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s true of course, but, “Only when someone keeps more than one omega. Some Alphas have only one omega for all their needs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So an omega who is a pet is also the cook in some households?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’d be willing to have cooking dinner as one of your chores? I know that you didn’t have to deal with such tasks in my brothers’ household.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d be happy to be useful to you, Alpha,” Dean nods, and it’s not even a lie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And if I tell you to always cook enough for two people and eat your own portion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’ll do that, Alpha,” Dean nods and has a hard time not feeling a bit of relief at the prospect of getting a full meal once a day. “I’d be thankful for it, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent gets much brighter then, “Well, then that’s what we’ll do. You’re in charge of cooking dinner from now on. There are a few cookbooks in the kitchen that I - can you read?” He interrupts himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods, though he hasn’t had much use for the skill. But he did spend a few years in school before he presented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, very good. There are cookbooks if you want to find recipes to try, and there’s a notepad with my shopping list. Just add any ingredients that you need and I’ll make sure to shop for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean repeats, though the enthusiasm takes him aback. Maybe this is a set-up for him to fail? Or maybe the Alpha is just a really bad cook? But the soup was fine and it’s not like house-omegas are expensive. Both pets and mares go for more money, at least when they’re young and pretty and haven’t been used yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, that is settled. So to summarize, you are free to move around the house, do any of your personal hygiene in the bathroom as needed, drink when you’re thirsty and it’ll be your task to cook dinner. That sounds doable, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods, because that sounds much better than being chained to a wall in the basement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me think, what else. Oh! Sleeping arrangements.” The Alpha turns hesitant. “I understand that pets expect to sleep in the master bedroom?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh, yes, Alpha,” Dean nods, though he’s confused again. The Alpha has said he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>want him as a pet several times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh well, we’ll - figure it out, I guess,” the Alpha frowns. “I just wasn’t prepared for this.” He sighs. “I should have known that they’d be trouble even after they finally managed to kill each other.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip, because he never likes the sound of being trouble. He tries hard not to be. “I’m sorry, Alpha,” he mutters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No, it’s not your fault! You lost your masters and -,” the Alpha shakes his head, “I shouldn’t talk about them like that. I’m sure you knew them better than I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Dean’s got no idea about that, though he guesses he knew them more - intimately than their brother did. He’s pretty sure, though, that that’s not an improvement. But they were his masters and this Alpha is their brother, and however the Alpha might feel about them, he’s not gonna be happy about a pet disrespecting them, so Dean keeps his mouth firmly shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha takes in a deep breath as if steeling himself and then says, “We got home kind of late. Do you need anything else before we prepare for the night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, then drink the rest of your tea and bring the mug to the sink while I go to find you a toothbrush. Come find me after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t even get to answer before the Alpha is already up and striding towards the hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean lets out a breath once he’s left the room. He hasn’t had many moments alone today and on the one hand, he appreciates it, because it makes everything feel more real, but on the other hand, it’s exhausting in a way he’s not used to. With Master Michael and Master Lucifer, everything was - defined. The rules were strict, the touches harsh and the punishments harsher, but at least Dean knew where he stood every moment of every day. Here, everything is confusing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Dean's warm and his stomach is only grumbling because it's got some work to do, and apart from his already bandaged and also socked feet he's no more hurt than he was in the morning. Which is more than he'd expected, seeing how any intermediary loves to sample the goods before delivery and every new owner likes to stake their claim so thoroughly that any memories of old owners get driven out of a pet's mind and body. Alpha Castiel had done no more than have Dean wash off the smell of his former masters. He hadn’t staked his own claim. Now that might change tonight, no matter what he said earlier, but even then Dean's stomach will be full and his feet bandaged. Silver linings. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This Monday was shittier than expected so far, so at least have a chapter. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The towel that Dean had used earlier and had left neatly folded on the floor after he was done, now hangs on the towel rack next to the Alpha’s towel, and an unopened toothbrush lies on the side of the sink. But the Alpha is not in the bathroom and Dean got told to find him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cautiously moves down the hallway, peeking into rooms through open doors. The one next to the bathroom seems to be a utility room, the one across from it is a study or office. They are shrouded in shadows, the light from the hallway only reaching so far. Further down the hall, there’s light coming from a room, so Dean guesses that’s the bedroom and thus the place where he needs to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stomach does an uncomfortable swoop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting fucked by someone new is never pleasant. It gets easier once he’s used to someone. Once he can anticipate what they want of him. Then he can avoid the worst of the pain. He’s not looking forward to tonight on that account.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But also, sleeping in a room with an unknown Alpha is a problem. Now, don’t get him wrong, it’s still better than being chained somewhere on his own. But how’s Dean supposed to know when to be alert and when it’s okay to sleep if he can’t yet predict the Alpha’s pattern of behaviour? He’s always supposed to be ready to be used, presenting at his master’s first call, but for Master Lucifer that often meant springing up from the floor for a hard fuck at 3am, while Master Michael never touched him before it turned light outside. How is he supposed to know what Alpha Castiel wants? Somehow he doubts the Alpha will just tell him. Hell, maybe the Alpha doesn’t know himself, seeing how he has no pet. Might be that he plans on not using Dean at all, but then when he wakes up in the middle of the night and omega scent permeates the bedroom, suddenly he’s horny and hauls Dean up from the floor by his hair if he’s not fast enough to move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s not keen on having his scalp ripped out and he’s not keen on being only half-conscious while being fucked, either. When his nightmares bleed into reality, the disorientation that follows stays much longer than he’d like. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes another deep breath and resolves to not sleeping tonight. It’s just one night. And admittedly, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few days, the anxiety of his situation leaving him awake even when no one cared whether he was conscious or not. But even one night gives an indication of patterns, making the second night a little safer than the first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that thought, he finally steps over the threshold of the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s got a hardwood floor like the rest of the house, the only carpet another rug next to the bed. Where the Alpha gets up Dean guesses, so it’s probably to keep his feet warm when he gets up in winter. It doesn’t look thick or comfortable, which is bad news, because as Dean’s expected, there is no such thing as a pet bed near the foot end of the bed. It's only logical since the Alpha doesn’t have or want a pet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bed itself is made and looks to be queen size. The Alpha’s pillow lies fluffed right in the middle, the blanket is tucked in neatly on all sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Dean a moment longer to locate the Alpha himself because he’s half hidden by the closet doors. He’s on a step stool, rummaging through the upper shelf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean worries his lip, but he’s here like he’s supposed to, so he doesn’t disturb the Alpha and goes to kneel next to bed. His knees get to rest on the rug, though he keeps his feet off of it. Maybe the Alpha will allow him a blanket to soften the ground. That would be nice. Especially if Dean doesn’t get to keep the clothes. Which is unclear as of yet. Dean's never had a master who wasn't a master before, but he guesses the usual rules don't apply. Which is why he doesn't strip immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, Dean! I didn't hear you come in!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean hears the wobbling of the step stool, but he doesn't look up. "I'm sorry, Alpha," he says automatically, though really he's always been trained that he should be seen and not heard. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your mouth is just another slutty hole to use, little pet, no one wants to hear your grating voice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I found this pillow and I was sure that I have another blanket somewhere," the Alpha grumbles, "but I can't for the life of me remember where I put it. Not that the house is that big, but there are still boxes in the attic that I never - nevermind," the Alpha stops himself, "that's not what is of import right now. What to do," he ponders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's not Dean's place to speak or make suggestions, but so far the Alpha seemed to appreciate any help from his unwanted pet. "'S okay, Alpha," Dean says quietly. "I'm used to wood floors. I don't need a blanket."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Floors?" The Alpha frowns again. "My brothers made you sleep on the floor?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I understood that pets have their own beds in the master bedroom when their masters don't want to share their beds."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. "Master Michael had one."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you didn't get to sleep in it?" The Alpha asks and sounds completely puzzled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'S a reward, Alpha. Not an everyday thing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like food?" The Alpha asks and now the smoke and fire in his scent is strong. The Alpha is angry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Alpha," Dean whispers, hunching his shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, that doesn't work for me," Alpha Castiel says, cool voice contrasting with the flames in his scent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sinks into himself a little further. Angry Alpha probably means chaining him up somewhere just to get Dean out of his sight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on, up you go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean flinches. He wonders whether it would make sense to beg to be allowed to stay here, but begging never even worked with the masters that knew him and cared for him as their pet. Not unless they'd explicitly wanted him to beg. And this Alpha has no reason to care whatsoever. So Dean shakily gets to his legs. He didn't see an entrance to the basement. But that doesn't mean it isn't there. And there's always the utility room. Or outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha throws the pillow he got from the shelf onto the closer side of the bed. "Pets stay in the bedroom, but I'm certain that there's no rule that says it has to be the floor when there's no pet bed. So, get under the covers. It's not ideal but we'll share the duvet. I'm sure we can make it work."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alpha?" Dean asks because he's sure his mind is playing tricks on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Under the covers, come on."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you -," Dean shakes his head in disbelief. "You want me to get under right now? You don't want me to strip?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha frowns which Dean can see because obviously bewilderment makes him sloppy. He quickly looks down again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is it a requirement?" The Alpha asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head because what even is happening.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want to strip?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean just blinks because he's a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he doesn't get to have wishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha apparently takes his lack of reaction as an answer, because he repeats, "I'm sure we'll manage. Come on."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he goes over to the other side of the bed and takes the pillow from the middle of the bed and moves it over. It's only when he climbs into bed that Dean consciously notices that the Alpha is wearing lounge pants and a t-shirt now and that that's apparently his sleep clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly, Dean pulls the covers back a little on the side of the bed where he's standing. It's the side with the rug. The side that he's sure is the one the Alpha usually uses. He stops for a moment, carefully perched on the edge, but the Alpha doesn't even pay him much mind. He's rummaging around his nightstand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Dean slides down, pulling the covers over himself extremely cautiously, so as to not disturb the Alpha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I always read a while before I can sleep," the Alpha says. "So the light will be on for a bit longer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods and then he lets his eyes flutter up because that's what the Alpha told him to do when he's feeling grateful. And the way the mattress is soft underneath him and the blanket is already warming up? Dean's grateful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He freezes when he looks at the Alpha because the Alpha is looking right back at him and then they’re both staring and there's this funny feeling in Dean's stomach that he doesn’t know what to do with. He rips his eyes away after another heartbeat. "Thank you for letting me sleep in the bed, Alpha." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes the Alpha's scent bloom into cinnemony goodness, and though he doesn't answer the smell is enough to make Dean relax into his pillow and cuddle up in the blanket, though he's still careful not to steal it from the Alpha. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn't even notice that he's fallen asleep until he wakes up. He feels heavy and disoriented. He's blanketed in a smell that he's unused to. He pries open his eyes and finds that his surroundings are unfamiliar. Even in the murky shadows of the night he knows that this is not one of the bedrooms in the mansion. It takes another moment before he registers that he's feeling heavy because an Alpha has slung his arms and legs around him. Dean freezes, heart racing, because that's not any of his masters. Did they have guests? Did they give him to someone as a favor for the night? But no, he'd remember that, right? Unless - did they drug him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, wait, they can't drug him because they're dead. Master Michael and Master Lucifer are both dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It comes back to him then. This Alpha's name is Castiel. He's inherited Dean but he doesn't want him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though it doesn't look quite that way right now, seeing how tightly he's wrapped his limbs around Dean. Dean tries to carefully extricate himself, but all that does is make the Alpha sigh and burrow closer. So Dean stays still. It's not as uncomfortable as Dean would have expected. Maybe it's because the Alpha is fairly unthreatening right now, what with his bed head and his nose buried into Dean's side. Maybe it's also because without the acrid irritation, Alpha Castiel's scent is actually fairly pleasant. A little spicy but not as overbearing as most Alpha scents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This scent makes Dean relax back into the Alpha's hold, which promptly gets rewarded by a pleased little grumble, almost a purr, that only serves to melt Dean's muscles further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The relaxing quality of his new owner's scent might be the explanation why Dean fell asleep even though he'd promised himself not to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's not sure he likes it. Yes, a master has utter control over a pet, but shouldn't Dean at least have control of his own reactions? He'd always fought to make his body lax and pliant, it had never just happened. Then of course, Alpha Castiel isn't shoving himself up his hole, he's - Dean's not actually sure what this is. The closest word Dean can come up with is </span>
  <em>
    <span>cuddling</span>
  </em>
  <span>, though that's a word connected to a soothing huddle with other pets at the rare chance when they were either explicitly allowed or stashed out of sight long enough to make it safe. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cuddling</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn't usually include this possessive hold, either. Is this how Alphas cuddle? But why would the Alpha?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dean? Go back to sleep," the Alpha grumbles from his position with his face smashed into Dean's side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I  - I'm sorry, Alpha. I'll lie still."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs and loosens his hold. "You were flailing and whimpering. A nightmare, I assume. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't. So I held you and the nightmare passed and you were content and peaceful and it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>," the Alpha sulks."Now you're all lemony again and it tickles my nose and it can't be past four and I didn't get enough sleep yet. So go back to sleep, Dean."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's whiny and pouty and has very little to do with the stern Alpha from during the day. "I'm sorry, I can't fall asleep on command, Alpha," Dean admits. "I can stay on the floor for the rest of the night, though, so that I don't disturb you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He expects to be pushed over the edge of the bed and already braces for the impact on the hardwood, but instead the Alpha's hold tightens around him again."No, omega, stay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's an order - Alpha voice, too - but the Alpha nuzzles his nose into Dean's t-shirt and squeezes his eyes shut, and if there was supposed to be any threatening effect it gets lost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, Alpha," Dean agrees and that gets him a happy sigh at the submission and enough space to wiggle around and get more comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's not exactly the worst thing that's ever happened to Dean, but it's weird as fuck. He's not even sure how much of Castiel's rational brain is online right now. Most of his reactions seem to be at least partially Alpha instinct to hold on to their omega. Though it's such a quiet and non-violent expression of that instinct that Dean's got little experience with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably means that his first assessment was right and this Alpha is more like Master Michael, keeping his instincts in check in the way he runs his household. Master Michael never lashed out with his Alpha the way Master Lucifer did. Everything he did was methodical. Dean's got no real idea what that cerebral approach means for the base reactions of Master Michael's Alpha, though. He definitely never accidentally </span>
  <em>
    <span>cuddled</span>
  </em>
  <span> when his conscious mind was sleep-addled like Castiel’s is now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He also never said the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>omega </span>
  </em>
  <span>without derision like Castiel just did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Weird. Just weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the Alpha wanted him to sleep and he wanted his scent to even out, and thinking about all of this will not help with that. So Dean turns to his side - towards the Alpha, not away, cause he doesn’t think the Alpha will tolerate him moving away too well - and closes his eyes again. This way, the Alpha’s head ends up against his chest and Dean’s nose is close to the Alpha’s hair, and really, his scent is quite nice from this close. He breathes in deeply and shuts down his mind. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm definitely posting faster than I'm writing, but I can keep the weekly updates up for a while longer. &lt;3</p>
<p>Also, best of luck to all of us for the SPN finale this week.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Dean wakes up the next time, there is light filtering in through the window, and while he’s still cuddled up under the covers, there is no Alpha holding him close anymore, though his scent is now lingering on Dean. It’s not as off-putting as with other Alphas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a small noise, prompting Dean to turn. The Alpha is still in the room, sitting on the side of the bed, head in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alpha?” Dean asks cautiously and sits up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha nods in acknowledgement, though he doesn’t turn around. There is silence for a while, the minutes ticking by, until the Alpha finally says, “My brothers are dead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s said without any discernible emotion. Still, “I’m sorry, Alpha,” Dean answers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That gets the Alpha to turn around and tilt his head in question. “Are you?” he wants  to know. “Sorry?” It doesn't sound accusing, more like it's an actual question that had come to him at some point overnight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lets his gaze sink to the covers before accidentally making eye contact. He makes himself smaller, drawing his knees close. Even if it's an actual question, these are the Alpha’s brothers. Dean should say he’s sorry. Offer something, anything. But of course, too much time has already passed and the Alpha will know that it’s a lie, so in the end, he quickly shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha hums. It doesn't quite sound surprised. "They were insufferable children and presenting only made them worse." He sighs. "But my world has always had them in it and it feels impossible that that's not the case anymore."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods, because that, he can understand. When he woke up at night, he also expected to be back in one of their bedrooms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry that it made you end up with someone as incompetent as me, though."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" Dean frowns and actually forgets his lessons and stares at the Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You deserve to have a home with an Alpha who knows what they're doing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stumbles at the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The only place that word was ever attached to was a house that's been gone since he was four. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Pets don't have homes, Alpha. Unless you call a pet bed or a crate </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Pets get to stay in their owners' homes, that's all." He twists his mouth into a weak smile. "Also, you're doing fine."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I hated my brothers," the Alpha admits. "I didn't want anything to do with the inheritance. But there's no one else. I mean there's - but he couldn't inherit even if I knew where to find him. So there's only me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. "I understand, Alpha." Because Dean doesn't have the energy to hate his former masters but he's pretty sure if there was more fight left in him, he would. "And I'm sorry that you have to care for me. I'm gonna try not to be difficult for you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no," The Alpha shakes his head. "It's not you. Not you personally anyway. It's that the whole concept of </span>
  <em>
    <span>pets…</span>
  </em>
  <span>" the Alpha makes a complicated gesture that Dean only catches out of the corner of his eyes. "Ahh," the Alpha groans. "I feel awfully inadequate even at explaining."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If you, umm," Dean cringes at his own words, cause there's probably a fifty-fifty chance that they'll make the Alpha more upset, not less, "if you have no taste for omegas, you're not the only Alpha who's into other Alphas. It’s okay."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no," the Alpha defends, "that's not - how do you even know about such things?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. "The Heaven &amp; Hell Club catered to all sorts." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They had Alphas who were there to pleasure other…" The Alpha breaks off, either surprised or shocked. More like Master Michael then, who found the Alphas who were working at the club as distasteful as Master Lucifer's guests of that particular affliction. But allowing that abomination paid well, so in the end, he just ignored it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. "I didn't mind them so much."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cause they didn't touch you," the Alpha guesses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Cause they didn't want to touch me, yeah." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's a small but vital difference. Because it didn't keep Master Lucifer from playing his own games. He'd enjoyed it, making his guests touch Dean against their will if he could. If he had something to hold over their heads. He enjoyed their frantic attempts to even get it up enough to fuck Dean. Dean almost felt pity for them, though he guesses since they were Alphas they could have chosen better company and avoided the issue altogether. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't enjoy Alphas wanting to touch you?" Castiel asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean's stomach curls up into itself for the first time in this conversation. "It is my purpose in this world to serve my masters and bring them pleasure."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That was not the question I asked," the Alpha insists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lowers his eyes even further and keeps his lips pressed together because if he doesn't he's gonna tell the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If I looked it up on any random website it would tell me that all pets want at any time…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"... is to be fucked. Just like mares want to be bred every year even if it kills them and house-omegas know no higher satisfaction than a spotless bathroom." It explodes out of Dean, despite his knowing better. "Alpha, you do know that omegas are people, right?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sits frozen after his outburst, heart racing now that it's too late. Then he does the only thing he can think of. He slides off the bed and onto his knees, arms behind his back and head tilted to show his throat under the collar, even while he keeps his gaze firmly fixed to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's okay,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he tells his body. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We've been beat before. We've survived it before. We even survived the basement. We will survive this. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You could apologize. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No. No, I won't. They get to beat me, but I get to keep the person I once was.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tilts his head even further, looking to the left where the Alpha's voice is now coming from the right. He's so close. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and breaks after all. "I'm sorry, Alpha. I'm yours to do with as you please and I know it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don't think you do. But you will. After I show you. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He only notices that he's trembling when the heavy hand on his shoulder trembles with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please not the dark, Master. Please just beat me. Please, I won't do it again. I swear. Please not the dark. I won't do it again."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean, you didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks and Master Michael morphs into Alpha Castiel. He's not sure that that makes it any better. He doesn't know Alpha Castiel. He doesn't know how he punishes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'M sorry, Alpha," Dean mumbles again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Exactly," Castiel nods. "I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alpha</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I'm not </span>
  <em>
    <span>Master</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So who of my brothers did you think I was?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Master Michael," Dean admits quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"He'd keep you in the dark? Even though he knew how much it scares you? And don't even try to tell me that that's not true. You’ve had two panic attacks about it now."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Only for- only for willful disobedience." The words come out on a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So he did it </span>
  <em>
    <span>because</span>
  </em>
  <span> you were scared. As a deterrent." The Alpha's scent turns burnt like bread that's been left in the toaster too long. He's getting angry again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean's body starts shaking even more, but he manages to stay put at least. Ripping himself out of the Alpha's grip will only make his Alpha-side react before his brain catches up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Alpha," Dean repeats. "I'll be good now. I won't forget my place again." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha groans. "But that's just it, I don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what your place in this house is. I'm inadequate as your Alpha and I'm inadequate at providing a home. I don't know the rules."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your Alpha</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The words make something weird zing through Dean's guts. He's only ever had masters. No one's ever attempted to be his Alpha. It carries a different connotation somehow, though he couldn’t put the difference in words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm gonna need your help with this, Dean. Because I don't want to - these websites, they repulse me. I don't want to research what I have to do there. So, will you help me and tell me what you need and what I'm supposed to do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Umm." The confusion drains some of the adrenaline out of Dean. "I think right now you're supposed to punish me?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because I said I was a person?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But you are a person."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm a pet."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But you're also a person," Castiel insists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Most everyone would disagree. And most Alphas would definitely not like me being brazen enough to say it out loud."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Most Alphas are stupid. And I'm not gonna punish you because other people are stupid." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha takes a deep breath, like his decision is a relief to himself. He slumps back against the bed and it's only now that Dean consciously notices that the Alpha has been kneeling next to him the whole time. That's why his voice didn't come from above. He chose to be on Dean's level. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And okay, not like Master Michael after all. Master Michael enjoyed towering. He also would have rather bitten his tongue off than asked Dean for help. And he would have punished Dean for having any ambitions beyond being a pet. Believing to be a person would definitely have been classified as that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sighs and already hates himself a little for what he's gonna do next. But Alpha Castiel asked. "You shouldn't coddle me so much."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You asked me what you should do. And you shouldn't coddle me so much. I'll get used to it and the Alpha you sell me to will have to train me all over again."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"How am I </span>
  <em>
    <span>coddling</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?" The Alpha asks bewildered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The clothes. Promising me a meal every night. Letting me sleep in the bed, under the covers, next to you. Putting bandaids on the cuts on my feet instead of punishing me for getting them cut up in the first place. Hell, talking to me like this and letting me answer instead of just ordering me to do what you want me to do."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My brothers didn’t…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And your next master won’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Alpha. They won’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that’s…” The burnt smell is back in the Alpha’s scent, like he’s upset on Dean’s behalf. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I was a mare, maybe. In most places, they get fed regularly cause otherwise the pup might not be healthy. And they never get hit anywhere that would make them miscarry. But, Alpha, pets are...” Fucktoys. Holes to be filled. They only have to be alive enough to still provide a warm body. “Pretty low even in the hierarchy of omegas,” Dean finally settles on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But that's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>fair</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean smiles bitterly because fairness is a thing he gave up on when his dad got rid of him the moment he presented, selling him to an omega training facility, who in turn sold him on to his masters. “You asked me to tell you how this works, Alpha, not whether I like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t.” It’s a statement, not a question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. He doesn’t think too many omegas actually enjoy being starved and beaten and used. “It makes no difference what I like or don’t like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It makes a difference to me!” The Alpha huffs. “I was always taught that pets -, that they crave -, that -,” he breaks off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That they crave being filled? That they crave being at their master’s beck and call? That it brings them pleasure to be used? That they’re thankful for a hard hand, because discipline makes them know their place in the world and that’s the sort of security they need?” Dean snorts. “Yeah, if Master Michael had asked me any of those questions, I’d have answered it’s all true and to please beat me and use me some more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because he’d have locked you up in the dark otherwise, without clothes or food or comfort.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean nods softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate </span>
  </em>
  <span>my brothers.” It breaks out of the Alpha with a passion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs again. “I’m alive and I’ve still got all my parts and I still look like me. They never modified my body cause Master Michael didn’t allow it and it was too big a thing for Master Lucifer to do behind his back. The pets I saw at the club…” He shudders, still utterly spooked by some of the omegas, who barely looked human at all anymore, their bodies heavily modified to suit their masters’ interests. Dean doesn’t even want to know what it’s like to look in the mirror and not recognize yourself. Or what it’s like to have parts of you cut off or stretched beyond recognition, quite possibly while tied down and fully conscious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The body you’ve been given is the Lord’s design. Altering it on purpose is a sin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t really give a fuck about Master Michael’s reasoning, but he’s heard him yell something to that effect at Master Lucifer. Of course Master Michael also believed that it is his God-given right as an Alpha to hold dominion over all omegas, and for omegas to be created simply to serve Alphas and nothing else. So Dean’s pretty sure that religious zealousness does not actually equal protection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, that," Dean nods. "So what I wanted to say is, your brothers were just - normal. Don't hate them on my account, Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha slumps a little further. "I've been told that. By them and others. That I'm the one who is abnormal. That I have a crack. It's another reason why I never saw myself fit to care for a pet. Or any omega for that matter. I just seem to - not be able to function in society as I should. And it's not that I'm not attracted to, ummm," he breaks off and then whispers, "I just don't want to own a person." His scent turns so guilty as if it's the worst secret he's ever shared. Maybe it is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're Alpha," Dean shrugs. "You can do whatever you want."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha's scent turns even more sour at that. "I wish that were true. I'd change a lot of things about the world if it were." Then he takes a deep breath and clambers to his feet. "Come on, your knees must be hurting from kneeling and I for my part am hungry. Let's go get dressed and find some breakfast."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Umm, I'm already dressed, Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, then we should find you a second set of clothes. Come on." He holds out a hand for Dean to take. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can't pretend to understand what's happening, but he takes the hand and lets Castiel lift him up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sends him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his morning routine and by the time he comes back to the bedroom, the Alpha is gone but there is in fact a set of clothes lying on the bed. There are jeans that are pretty obviously Castiel's and a belt, which is probably a good idea if the jeans are as loose as the sweatpants. Even if just looking at a belt automatically makes Dean's skin itch these days. There's also another shirt and a hoodie, and an unopened three-pack of boxers. Dean inspects those more closely. The Alpha must have bought them for himself and never used. They're plain and white and Dean's never really worn any like them because he went from childhood right to </span>
  <em>
    <span>omegas only need underwear if their master finds lace enticing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This underwear is sturdy and practical and now Dean's imagining Alpha Castiel in them and the way that they'd look simple but at the same time fit snugly enough to highlight his package, and what the fuck, where had that come from. Especially since he'd just thought how they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> enticing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He puts them back down in favor of checking the last item there. It's socks again. They have a bee pattern this time, and the sentence "to bee or not to bee" written on them. It's a silly pun, but it makes Dean smile, and not many things manage that. The socks fit the Alpha somehow, more than the Alpha-typical slacks and the white button-down that he was wearing yesterday. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes off the sweatpants and shirt and folds them neatly before slipping into the new clothes. It feels weird. His hand strays to the collar around his neck. It's a weight that he bears without conscious thought most of the time, but now it feels wrong. Like someone who's fully dressed, who has layers even, shouldn't be wearing a collar. It makes his stomach flip because that's a treacherous thought. And he's just told Castiel how getting used to this is going to be a problem as soon as the Alpha gets rid of him. Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>can't </span>
  </em>
  <span>get used to this. The collar is going to stay, it can't even be opened, while the jeans are going to disappear, no matter how Dean feels about it, so he better not get any fancy ideas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it still feels good, wearing these clothes. Even if they’re the Alpha’s and not his own. Even if they don’t fit perfectly. He sniffs at the hoodie, but all he smells is laundry detergent. Everything is freshly washed. It seems like the Alpha keeps a very neat house, the floors clean, the clothes fresh, the decor dusted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Dean takes the time to make the bed. He puts the little stack of sweatpants and shirt that he’d worn on the floor near the foot-end of the bed together with the extra boxers, unsure where it all should go. He kind of doesn’t think the Alpha would punish him for keeping them on the bed, but it’s better not to assume. If he puts them on there it looks like Dean expects to sleep in the bed again tonight. And that’s not his decision. Also, they have a whole day ahead of them. So even if the Alpha plans to let Dean sleep in the bed again, that’s a lot of time for Dean to fuck up and make the Alpha change his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was nice, though, sleeping in this bed. Dean doesn’t remember the nightmare and he feels rested. Even with the unknown Alpha wrapped around him, he’d slept well. Maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>because </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the unknown Alpha, his brain treacherously supplies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that thought cannot lead anywhere good, so Dean suppresses it fast. Better to go find said Alpha instead of thinking about him. Dean’s probably dawdled anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finds the Alpha in the kitchen, folding an omelet. Dean’s nose twitches and his stomach wants to grumble, because the room smells like eggs and onions and mushrooms and cheese, and it’s kind of heavenly. But Dean suppresses the longing. The Alpha had said Dean could cook and eat dinner. That’s good enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I help, Alpha?” Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Dean! Yes, you can! Can you set the table?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Alpha,” Dean nods. He saw where everything was yesterday. So he gets a plate and a knife and fork for the Alpha, and because there’s a coffee pot simmering, he gets a mug, too. “Do you take sugar or cream in your coffee, Alpha?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, just some sugar,” the Alpha says. “It’s up in the cupboard to the right.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods and retrieves the sugar and a teaspoon. “Anything else you need, Alpha?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some orange juice maybe.” The Alpha takes the pan and brings it to the table where he stops abruptly. “Dean, where is your plate?” he asks with a frown and shows Dean the omelet. It’s already cut in half. “Or do you not like omelettes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, umm, I didn’t know that I was eating.” Dean feels a blush work its way up his neck and what the hell is that about. He thought he was well beyond blushing in any situation life is throwing at him, but with this Alpha normal rules don't seem to apply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please get yourself a plate and cutlery, Dean. You’ll be eating as often as I am. You will not go hungry here. Bring yourself a cup of coffee, too, if you want some. I’ll take care of the OJ.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s feet move faster than his brain, grabbing tableware, and then the Alpha slides the omelet onto their plates, and it’s a big omelet, lots of stuff in it, so even half of it is still a good portion. The Alpha brings the orange juice, and Dean’s not a big fan of anything fruit or vegetable, unless the fruit is baked into pie, but drinking something that’s not tap water is nice. He’d say </span>
  <em>
    <span>silver linings</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but really it’s better than that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Alpha,” Dean says softly when they’re both sitting at the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re very welcome, Dean.” There’s a warmth there that’s definitely new. “Please, dig in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Dean does and he’s got to keep himself in check cause otherwise he’d make lots of happy noises. His stomach is mostly settled after the soup yesterday, so now he can just enjoy the omelet, really taste the cheesy and egg-y goodness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you like it?” The Alpha asks, though the way Dean is savoring this should be indication enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods. “Definitely. You’re a good cook.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent changes to pride, like the compliment from Dean means something to him. It’s as weird as most things about this Alpha, but it kinda makes Dean smile a little, and the Alpha doesn’t seem to mind Dean smiling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, no coffee for you?” The Alpha points out that Dean didn’t bring a mug for himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s smile falls as he tries to puzzle this out. He’s not sure whether the Alpha wants only a straight answer or also a reason. “Coffee is for, umm, black coffee is for when they want you to wake up faster after they gave you something that knocked you out because they wanted to - whatever they wanted to do. ‘s not like I remember that part.” He’s got no idea why that makes him feel ashamed, it’s not like it was his choice. But he still collects his hands in his lap and looks down at them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it’s because everything is so nice here. The terror he felt waking up after those episodes, the frantic checking whether he was still complete, whether the pain was because he’d been fucked raw or whether it was because something was cut off, it doesn’t fit with the tranquility of Alpha Castiel’s kitchen. It makes him feel dirty. Like Dean’s bringing the whole house down just by existing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a hand on his shoulder, warm and solid, and when did the Alpha even get up and come around the table? Dean blinks. It’s like he’s losing time every so often. Is that something new? Or has it happened before and he’s never noticed because at the manor, it didn’t really matter where his mind was, as long as it registered Alpha commands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be,” the Alpha shakes his head, his hand still heavy on Dean’s shoulder. Heavy, but not pressing down. Not holding him in place. Connecting them. Like he thinks it will help draw Dean into the present. “I was worried is all.” He squeezes Dean’s shoulder and goes back over to his own chair. “Please keep eating. You need the calories.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s not hungry anymore, but he picks his fork up to poke at his food because the Alpha told him so. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you like tea?” The Alpha asks, like Dean has not just frozen in panic after his last question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I -,” Dean starts, but breaks off. There is a tea that omegas brew for each other secretly to stave off pain during heat when there’s no Alpha to actually help, be it because the Alpha finds heats disgusting, or because it’s a house-omega who’s not being touched by the master and no one else is supposed to touch them, either, or because the master enjoys their pets begging for their knot and crying in pain. It’s the most experience Dean has with tea other than the tea the Alpha made yesterday, and he can’t tell the Alpha about it, because it’s a secret shared only among omegas. “Not really, Alpha. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be. You don’t have to enjoy any particular breakfast beverage. What about foods? What do you enjoy there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I enjoy any food, Alpha. More so if it isn’t spoiled,” Dean answers honestly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent does that burnt thing again, and Dean thinks he shouldn’t have mentioned the spoiled part. He’s quickly learning that the Alpha reacts strongly to many things that Dean sees as a normal fact of life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if you find spoiled food in the fridge or the pantry, please throw it out and don’t attempt to eat it. Let me reword the original question, though, so that it is less broad and more specific. We’ll need ingredients if you want to cook. So what would you like to cook tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That brings Dean up short. He’s gotten the task of cooking and he looks forward to it, but he hadn’t thought about details like what’s on the menu. “You don’t want to dictate the menu, Alpha?” he asks insecurely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” the Alpha shakes his head. “I know what I cook best, and I can cook some of that for us at some point, but today I’m looking forward to one of your specialties.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, Alpha…” Dean swallows hard because the Alpha thinks he has specialties, but to have specialties, you have to have practice and the Alpha now thinks he’s good at this and that he knows what he’s doing and really…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean!” This time, the hand is wrapped around Dean’s hand. “It was not a trick question. I was just thinking there was some food that you maybe wanted to make first, because you didn’t get to eat it at my brothers’ house.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Burgers,” Dean admits quietly because really it is the one food that comes to mind. “But I was fourteen the last time I made them. I’ll disappoint you, Alpha.” Inexplicably, the thought hurts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nonsense,” the Alpha shakes his head. “Burgers it is. And I can help to get you started. My brother taught me a mean recipe for homemade fries, though we’d basically have to start working on them now.” He breaks off. “My other brother, that is, not Michael or Lucifer. I don’t think either of them can cook for shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean snorts an involuntary gasp of laughter, which in turn turns Castiel’s scent very self-satisfied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, burgers.” The Alpha gets out his phone and clicks around on it before sliding it over to the center of the table. “Have you ever bought groceries online?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head, but he stares at the phone curiously. Pets obviously don’t need cell phones, so he has not had much contact with them. There’s a colorful page open that shows pictures of what’s apparently on sale today. Or at least there's a big banner saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>on sale</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dean’s eyes widen. “Cherry pie,” he whispers in awe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel chuckles. “I’m pretty sure that that’s not an ingredient that’s needed for burgers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean flinches because he hadn’t even been aware that he’d spoken loud enough for the Alpha to hear. “No, no, of course not. I’m sorry, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha shakes his head and waves the apology away. “Click on it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Dean pulls his hands away from the table and into his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on. If you’re gonna be cooking more often, this is the easiest way to get groceries. Try it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean gulps because the phone looks shiny and breakable and Dean’s not sure he should be allowed to touch it. But the Alpha said so, so he puts his finger on the picture of the pie. It opens up to a whole page of pies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, they have a special on pies this week. All pies cost the same. So, which one should we get?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head and pushes the phone back in the Alpha’s direction, who promptly pushes it back towards Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just click on the picture that you find the most appealing."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t really have to think about that, he knows which one it is, it’s just, “Alpha?” he asks in a small voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will I get to eat any of the pie?” Because if he chooses his favorite, thinking he’ll get to eat it, looking forward to it all day, and then Castiel will warm it up in the microwave, the smell wafting through the house, and Dean will have to sit and watch, it’s going to do something that Dean didn’t think was possible anymore: It’s going to shatter his heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really like pie, huh?” The Alpha asks, and it sounds kind, but Dean can’t bring himself to trust it. Knowing about this is information the Alpha can use against him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Dean’s pretty sure he’s given himself away anyway, so he nods once, sharply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth myself, but I feel like pie will be a great dessert today. For </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>of us,” the Alpha stresses. “Just choose your favorite.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean still doesn’t trust this, but he also really wants, so takes a deep breath and clicks on the photo showing the apple pie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A classic choice,” Castiel comments and taps the screen once more on a button that says ‘add to cart’, “and one that I seem to remember calls for vanilla ice cream to accompany it. This up here is the search bar. You can type what you are looking for and then it gives you the selection of brands they have.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha types </span>
  <em>
    <span>vanilla ice cream</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the tiny little keyboard and the page changes to show about a dozen different ice cream packages. He chooses one by clicking on it and then adding it to the cart. After that, he turns the phone to Dean again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still have frozen ground beef, and all the spices we need to make the patties. Potatoes, onions and ketchup are also not a problem. But we’ll have to get everything else. Here, you try it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s a little less leery about it now that the phone hasn’t spontaneously combusted after he’s touched it. He still needs a moment to figure out how to tap just right, but then he types </span>
  <em>
    <span>tomatoes </span>
  </em>
  <span>and clicks on some nice looking heirloom ones and adds them to the cart, and does the same with cheese slices and lettuce and bread. The Alpha intervenes when he wants to take the cheese that has the smallest price tag attached to it, upgrading them to a nice cheddar. But otherwise he just nods and cheers Dean on until they have everything. It makes a feeling of pride blossom in Dean that he’d forgotten existed. Master Michael and Master Lucifer had taken it for granted whenever their pet had done everything right, only noticing when he’d fucked up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, great, now we proceed to checkout here. It has all my payment information stored so you only have to decide on a delivery time. Let’s make it 5pm. There, all done. I have the same app on my tablet, you can use it whenever you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh,” Dean actually has no idea what to answer to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that not a good idea?” Castiel asks. “I thought it would make things easier, if you don’t always have to wait for me for this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, I can make a shopping list on a piece of paper and you can look it over?” Dean makes it a question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha is staring at him again. Dean doesn’t even have to look up to know it, he can feel it. The Alpha doesn’t smell burned this time, he smells a little like old books. Like he’s thinking about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>of Dean’s answer. “You don’t have any experience at all with technology, do you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The internet?” Castiel asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because pets have no use of the internet.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a statement so Dean doesn’t answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about if an Alpha asked a pet to point out what clothes they like or what bed they wanted? Would the pet be allowed to use the internet then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. He doesn’t see why not, though he also doesn't see why an Alpha would do that. A pet bed needs to fit the decor of the room and any clothes need to fit the Alpha's taste, the pet's wishes for softness or comfort don't play a role. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which means there’s no rule against technology and the internet as such. So if I felt it was useful for you to google recipes and go grocery shopping and in general have access to technology, it would be a skill that’s fine for you to learn, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These devices are expensive, Alpha. I might break them,” Dean points out. “Or I could stray away from recipes and - do things that you don’t like if you leave me alone with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I have a malware finder, so even if you stumble onto the less savory parts of the internet, it should be no problem. And for any shopping website that I don’t already have an account for, you’d need to give payment info, so you won’t accidentally buy - a horse or something.” He chuckles at his own random example, before deciding, “Yes, I think this is a good idea. And if it makes you feel better to have some firm rules about this in place, then the rule is that you can look at everything and put all the items you want into the shopping basket, but you run everything by me before a purchase. Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods, though he’s less than sure about this. He has clicked a few times on the screen now, but that doesn’t mean he has any idea how to do this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. I’ll teach you. But only after you finish your omelet.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Castiel does teach him. Only after they finish breakfast and clean away the dishes and start the fries, though. The Alpha stays at Dean’s side the whole time, working with him. He’s not supervising, either, but doing actual work. It’s very clear, too, that he is used to doing these things by himself and that he doesn’t mind the menial tasks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean definitely pegged him wrong when he thought he was like Master Michael, because Master Michael did not enjoy working with his hands at all. Not that that makes Alpha Castiel more like Master Lucifer, either. Dean’s got the nagging feeling that Alpha Castiel is like Alpha Castiel and no one else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It gets weird again when the Alpha picks up the tablet and sits down on the couch to teach Dean. He puts the tablet on the table in front of the couch, held up by its cover that serves as a stand. “I have no password set, which is probably insecure and lazy, but it really is only me here in the house usually. Come on, you have to come closer to see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s only two options for this, and Dean’s not been explicitly invited to the couch, so he chooses the safer option and drops to his knees next to Castiel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a wrong choice, though, because the irritated smell comes back on the Alpha. It doesn’t make Dean flinch the same way it had the other day, but he still hunches his shoulders. Acknowledges that he’s displeased the Alpha, even when no direct order was given.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” the Alpha grabs one of the throw-pillows from the couch. “If it’s more proper for you to stay down there, at least put this under your knees.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More proper? Dean’s got no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but the pillow is a kindness given right after Dean’s displeased the Alpha, and really Dean’s had a lot of stuff to be grateful for today already, so he takes it and makes the effort to look up when he says, “Thank you, Alpha.” He even attaches a shy smile to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about it makes the Alpha stop in his motion, his eyes locking with Dean’s and holding them for a long moment. Dean seems unable to rip his eyes away, either.  Finally, the Alpha coughs and looks back at the tablet. “It’s fine. Let’s work on this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods and turns his attention to the screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a lot. His former masters did not keep Dean for his brains and they didn't give him much chance to exercise any mental skills other than figuring out how to bear physical strain as quietly as possible, either. This Alpha seems enthusiastic about teaching him, though. He talks excitedly, moving from the recipes to google searches and then to an online lexicon that apparently has all the info about everything in the world but is still not always correct because “everyone can write in it and sometimes it shows”, before finally landing on a video site and playing cat videos. Because apparently cat videos are a thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean has to admit that they're actually kind of amusing. Cats do a lot of silly things with very serious faces, it seems. It makes Dean chuckle and that in turn makes the Alpha chuckle, too, the mood lighter than it had been, less awkward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though the awkwardness comes right back when Dean notices that he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Alpha shifting his weight when he leans in to search for the next video. He can feel all of Castiel's movements in fact because without his conscious input, he's slipped out of his perfect posture and is leaning into the Alpha's leg. He’s not sure the Alpha has noticed it, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stays where he is, deciding it’s best not to draw attention, but he can’t keep his mind focused on the screen anymore. Because there’s this reputation that pets have for being clingy and needing bodily contact and having to be trained out of following their master around for attention, but Dean doesn’t remember Master Michael and Master Lucifer ever having to train him for that. Yeah, maybe he’s missed the easy huddles with his brother that they used to comfort each other with as children, but it didn’t translate into searching out the hard lines of an Alpha’s body. There was no comfort to be found there anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only now, Dean’s body has searched out the Alpha, his solid warmth and cinnamon smell. Like that’s a thing that’s completely normal. Like that’s a thing that’s safe. More than that, like it’s a thing that’s desirable. It makes no sense to Dean’s conscious mind, but instead of alarm bells ringing and him correcting his posture, he listens to the Alpha talk about - what is he even talking about? Rural cat population and songbird decline? How did they get there from funny cat videos? - and soaks in his warmth because this feels easy. He wouldn’t mind kneeling at the Alpha’s feet every day, leaning into him and having the Alpha explain the world to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, the stream of words stops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” the Alpha sighs. “I got carried away.” He moves to close out of the video app. “All I wanted to do was show you the basics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean feels the disappointment zing through him as the Alpha takes the tablet and puts the cover back over it, jostling Dean enough that he has little choice but to straighten up. Still, “Thank you, Alpha.” He looks up at Castiel again, and he thinks this time his smile is more steady. He’s so unused to smiling, let alone smiling at an Alpha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles back warmly, and then he holds the tablet out to Dean. “Here. I have a few phone calls to make to let my agent and my editor know about what happened, so I’ll be in my office for a while. Please feel free to discover the house or the internet and take any food or drinks from the fridge that you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Alpha,” Dean mumbles and takes the tablet, though he stays rooted where he is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha gets up, but he lingers for a long moment, like he’s suddenly undecided about leaving Dean alone before he mutters, “Alright,” and walks towards the hallway. He turns back around before he leaves. “If you need anything at all, come find me in the office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean answers, back straight again and eyes down in his lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Okay.” The Alpha mutters to himself and then he’s gone, his absence looming in the room more than his presence did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Discover the house or the internet. It’s a tiny bit of freedom and Dean is glad that it’s been granted, but… He looks at the tablet in his hand. He’s clutching it way too tightly, afraid that it might fall and break. He softly puts it on the ground, under the overhang of the table where he won’t accidentally step on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If it ever happens to us, we’ll just keep each other, okay?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It must be the fleeting thought about him from before, why the memory of a five-year-old Sammy, holding on tight to Dean’s hand as they watch their father talk to an Alpha about a case, resurfaces. The Alpha’s mare is kneeling at her feet, literally barefoot and pregnant, a gash on his cheek that’s still bleeding, crying silent tears of pain while neither of the Alphas spares even one look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it would have worked, this plan of theirs, had it been Sam who presented as an omega. Maybe Dean could have fought it through against their father not to deliver him to the facility to have him classified and sold. As it was, well, their father had said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Shoulda have known you were a bitch, the way you’re always trying to please me. Let’s sell you to someone who can teach how to </span>
  </em>
  <span>actually</span>
  <em>
    <span> please an Alpha,’</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Dean had barely been coherent enough in the pain and fever of his first heat to even say goodbye to Sammy, let alone pack a bag with the things he wanted to keep. Most omegas at the facility were allowed that at least. They had small trinkets - photos, a necklace with a medaillon, an old childhood toy - to remind them of the past. Of the time they’d had a family. Dean has nothing. Nothing but fading memories. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, maybe </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean </span>
  </em>
  <span>is still officially his name at least. He doesn’t know. Master Michael and Master Lucifer had never called him anything other than </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So it’s quite possible that they didn’t give a damn about his name and didn’t change it to something that’s more to their liking. They did for the house-omegas. A family tradition, for the house-omegas to always have the same names, generation after generation, so the Alphas never have to try and remember new names. The house-omegas all started listening to their new names after a while, too. Dean’s always wondered whether they forget their old names eventually, or whether they keep them safe in their hearts like Dean did with his. But they weren’t supposed to talk to him and he wasn’t supposed to talk to anyone period, so he never got to ask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wishes he’d have a photo of Sammy at least. Just to remind himself that he actually existed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He picks up the tablet again. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Discover the internet.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That’s blanket permission. So Dean could check. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately, there’s sour dread in his stomach. The Alpha didn’t exactly mean for him to use the internet this way, but he’s shown him google and just typing a name does not come with a bill, and the Alpha said Dean can do things unless they cost money. Only then does he have to run them by the Alpha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, if he actually types that name, then there’ll be results. Or there won’t be. He’s not sure what’s worse. Because if there are results, the result might be an obituary. Dad might have gotten Sam killed. He was driving drunk often enough. Or the two might have killed each other, once Sam started puberty. Their fights were bad enough already with Sam barely ten and scrawny. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or the other option. No results. Like Dean’s pretty sure there are no results when you type his name. There’s nothing from before, because there was nothing to put online then. And there won’t be anything after, because the last time his name would have shown up anywhere is when he was sold to Master Michael. They’d have deleted his profile from the facility after, and erased the name he was born with from the databases. His last name is Novak now, but the name doesn’t mean more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>property of</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As for his first name, well, he really hopes it’s still Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puts the tablet aside. He’s heard the lawyer say that Alpha Castiel has to keep him for four weeks. So maybe sometime in those four weeks Dean can find the courage to type his brother’s name. And if not, well, if not, he’s gonna pretend that his brother survived their father and presented as an Alpha. That he finished school and maybe even college. That he’s an Alpha now who lives comfortably off a good job. And that he has become an Alpha who feeds his omegas and gives them rules that aren’t impossible to obey, because he only punishes to correct them and not because he enjoys causing them pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean can hope, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Decisively, he rocks to his feet. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Discover the house</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounds easier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still careful with that, too, though. He doesn’t want to go through the Alpha’s things or touch anything he’s not supposed to touch. But there’s a wall-spanning shelf in the living room, so Dean checks that out a little closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>First and foremost, there are a lot of books. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of books. Most of them are non-fiction and they are sorted into categories as far as Dean can tell. He tries to figure out the categories. There are some religious texts which maybe could be expected, though they are right next to what looks more like mythology and lore. Dean picks a book at random and carefully pulls it out. It’s a collection of urban legends. He remembers some of them from his childhood, but he wouldn’t have pegged Castiel to have any interest in such topics. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then, judging by the array of books about anything from history to bee keeping to woodwork, the Alpha has an interest in basically everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, there's a collection that gives Dean pause. It's a number of books about true crimes, including a series of small volumes, each representing a serial killer profile. It's gruesome, but also weirdly fascinating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh. Oh. You found my research."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean spins around when the Alpha's voice comes from behind him. For a moment, he feels the urge to drop to his knees and apologize, though he hasn't done anything he wasn't permitted to do. He resists the impulse and instead turns the book so that the Alpha can read the title. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh. Oh yes." The Alpha sounds embarrassed. "I'm not actually into killing, umm, anyone. I'm a writer. I'm writing a crime series. All of this is research." He makes a sweeping gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Dean answers intelligently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know, umm,” the Alpha stammers. “It’s not, it’s not like high literature or anything, but people seem to like what I write and it means I don’t have to leave the house for work much, and I don’t really have a boss, well, my agent maybe a little bit, and my editor is very bossy, though she’s not the boss of me, technically, and both of them come by the house every so often, but on a daily basis I can just do whatever I want…” He breaks off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rambling was kind of endearing, so Dean’s got a little smile that he only half-heartedly suppresses. “That’s an interesting career, Alpha.” And because Dean is apparently really bad at keeping his mouth shut like his masters taught him, he adds, “I knew a lot about this kind of stuff when I was a pup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Serial killers?” The Alpha asks, and Dean’s pretty sure if he looked up from the book in his hands he could see the Alpha’s eyes widen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was before I knew I was an omega,” Dean says softly. He knows that it’s not okay for him to have any interests, let alone gory ones. “But yeah, murders and urban legends and the supernatural. All of that. It was a - thing in my family.” He doesn’t really want to give more details on that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Castiel says and it doesn’t sound as disapproving as Dean expected. “Where did you grow up? Maybe you know legends that I don’t know yet!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, not only not disapproving, excited. The weirdest Alpha on the planet, definitely. “I’d have to know which legends you already know, Alpha,” Dean answers and avoids the question where he grew up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Of course! Do you - would you want to read my books?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinks. “I - really? You’d allow that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! I want to get as many opinions as I can about my books! I have the distinct feeling that my agent only ever forwards the positive feedback she gets. I want some real opinions!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha…,” Dean sputters. Because what? Since when do Alphas ask the opinion of omegas? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pets</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no less?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to, of course,” the Alpha paddles back and sounds disappointed. “It was just an idea. I get excited, but I can understand if the topic is not what you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d love to read your books, Alpha,” Dean interrupts him, because he can’t bear the heartbreak at the rejection of his books that the Alpha is trying to cover up, but that’s clear in his scent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” The Alpha says, and sounds insecure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods. “Please let me read your books.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s like a switch, the Alpha’s scent changing to sweet vanilla. “Come with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha turns around and Dean hurries to put the book he’s still holding back onto the shelf before rushing after the Alpha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They go by the Alpha’s office and by the bedroom, all the way to the end of the hallway, where the Alpha opens a door that had previously been closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a guest room. Or it’s supposed to be a guest room, at least, though the bed is crouched in one corner, while a large leather armchair in front of the window dominates the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha turns on a small lamp on the table next to the armchair and soft warm light floods the immediate area. Then he turns around and walks to the wall on the left, which is covered in books. Dean’s sensing a theme here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” the Alpha snatches a book from the shelf and brings it over. “This is the first book in the series.” He presses it into Dean’s hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Born-Again Identity by Emmanuel Allen,” Dean reads aloud, his reading painfully slow in his own ears. “Emmanuel Allen?” he frowns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A pseudonym,” the Alpha explains. “I don’t, umm, exactly want my books associated with my family.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods like he understands even though he doesn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” the Alpha puts a hand on Dean’s arm and guides him over to the armchair. “This is my reading nook. It’s very comfortable, or so I think at least. There’s only the meadow and the forest to watch from the window so there are no humans to disturb the serenity, and it’s also really nice when the rain patters against the window, and oh, if you’re cold, there’s the blanket to wrap yourself up in.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looks at the set-up. It looks cozy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure, Alpha?” Dean asks. “I mean, even if you don't want me as your pet, I’m sure you could find something for me to do where I’d be useful to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but this is useful to me. This is - it would bring me joy if you read my book. And that’s - that’s actually what pets are good at, right? Bringing joy? Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s pretty sure that no Alpha in existence ever had this interpretation of a pet’s purpose, but it makes a pull and an urge appear in Dean’s chest. A desire to do what the Alpha asks and actually bring him joy. It puts him off-balance, because that’s not the way this is supposed to go. A master has to keep their pet in line with punishment because otherwise they won’t want to be good. That’s the way it’s always been for Dean. But Alpha Castiel’s excitement is different from what Master Michael and Master Lucifer wanted from him. They wanted Dean to disappear until only a pet shaped by their wishes was left. Alpha Castiel wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>opinion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean answers, voice rougher than normal because the revelation that the Alpha wants his opinion, his honest to God opinion as a person, even though the Alpha has clad it in what a pet is supposed to do, is pushing him even further off-kilter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles. “I’ll leave you to it then. Oh, and don’t feel compelled to read to the end if you don’t like it. I’ll understand. I promise. I won’t get angry. Not everyone likes the same style.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll read it to the end, Alpha. It might just take a while. I haven’t read a book in a very long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s that burned smell again, but all the Alpha does is sigh. “I hope this is a good new start then. Okay. Let me know if you need something. I’ll be making myself some tea and then I’ll work for a little longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha nods and stays a moment longer, much like before when he seemed to be hesitant to leave the room, but then he rips himself away and disappears into the hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looks after him for a few heartbeats. How is this awkward and nerdy and endearing, clueless Alpha related to his former masters? Dean’s got no idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head and turns around, clutching the book tightly. He lets his free hand glide over the leather of the armchair. It’s soft and worn. Like the Alpha’s spent countless hours here, devouring book after book in the golden light of the lamp. The blanket is knitted and it’s made from a light, soft wool that feels like Dean’s touching a cloud. He’d love to curl up in it. In fact, he’d love to not be wearing jeans and a hoodie and feel the blanket on his skin. To be surrounded by something so soft seems like the sensation alone might be enough to make his skin forget some of the whippings by his former masters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But of course if he does that, if he wraps himself up with his skin bare, the blanket will smell like him after. He didn’t expect the Alpha to let him be in so many rooms and on so much different furniture anyway, seeing how the Alpha doesn’t want him here. Dean’s scent will cling to so many surfaces now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the Alpha told him to read here, so Dean cautiously sits down in the armchair. It’s amazing. It’s deep and comfortable, hitting just the right mixture between firm support and soft upholstery. Dean turns to the side, pulling his feet up onto the seat. This way, he can rest the book on his legs and his face comes to rest on the soft blanket. It’s kind of wonderful. So much so that he’s honestly not sure he isn’t in the basement in the dark and is making this whole house up in his mind to keep from screaming in terror. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if that is so, he doesn’t want to know. He wants to stay in this house with this Alpha for a little while longer.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Dean." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone is shaking his shoulder, but Dean's comfortable and warm and he doesn't want to wake up. "Mmh." The next moment he bolts upright. "I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to slip to the floor, but even though he's clearly startled the Alpha, who had to take a step back not to get knocked into, the hand on his shoulder holds Dean firmly in place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whimpers, trying to shake the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. What was he doing sleeping when he wasn't given permission? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Alpha. I'm sorry. I don't know how… or why… I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I'm gathering either you were still exhausted from the past few days or my book is a new discovery to cure insomnia," the Alpha answers drily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no, Alpha, your book is great. It's me who's the problem not your book."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean. Calm down."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's only when the Alpha catches his hand that Dean notices he was petting it down the Alpha's chest. A soothing gesture, intended to make his master consider fucking him instead of beating him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only this Alpha doesn't want to be touched by Dean, so the instinctual reaction is only going to disgust the Alpha and make it more likely he’s gonna punish him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Alpha," Dean repeats and tells his muscles to go limp in the Alpha's hold. To lean into whatever is gonna follow and accept the punishment. To show the Alpha that he submits to him. He turns his head to the side, too, baring his neck again as far as is possible with the collar on. He ends up staring at the leather armrest, now looking anything but comforting. Dean shouldn't have been in here in the first place. He should have knelt on the floor at the foot end of the bed and waited for the Alpha to have use for him like a good bitch. He'd have remembered his place there. The hard floor would have reminded him not to fall asleep. The cramping that inevitably occurs if you stay still too long, no matter how used you are to a position would have motivated him to be good to be allowed to move and stretch. The absence of any input would have given his brain time to think about the consequences of his actions instead of distracting him from who he is. Pets need a strict hand and enough pain to keep them in line, they become lazy and disobedient if they are too comfortable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha lets go of him and picks up the book that's still open on Dean's lap. He checks out the open page. Dean didn't get far. Even though he wasn't lying, he liked the start of the book. It's just that he's a very slow reader. Omegas' brains are not made for scholarly knowledge, everyone knows that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Alpha," Dean repeats. "I know that I'm a disappointment. I really wanted to bring you joy."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What did you think of Celeste?" The Alpha asks and ignores Dean's pleading. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Umm." Dean's caught off guard. "She's cool I guess." The red- haired FBI agent is apparently the main character of the book. "She's a whiz, too, I think. That guy Henriksen thinks he's got her under control, but I think she's playing him. She's smarter than him."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She is," the Alpha confirms, his voice soft. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is she an Alpha?" Dean asks. She didn't exactly behave like a knothead in the first 50 pages, but usually the heroes of such stories are Alphas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's a bit of a spoiler, actually. For now, it's intentionally ambiguous." The Alpha hands the book back to Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you, uhh, still want me to read it, Alpha?” Dean asks meekly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you want to,” the Alpha says. “But for now - the delivery guy was here ten minutes ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes turn wide. “It’s that late already?” He’s basically slept through half the day. “But there was a second step to the fries that had to be done during the day and -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean!” The Alpha interrupts him with just the one word, but it's crisp and demands attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean flinches and stays still. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I checked up on you earlier and decided to let you sleep. The fries are prepared and ready for their final fry in the pan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods mutely. The Alpha wanted to teach him and Dean slept through it. He’s useless. Can’t read a book, didn’t learn how the Alpha likes his food prepared, has done nothing but be a burden. Master Michael and Master Lucifer were right. His body is the one thing about him that matters. He can provide a warm place to sink into. He can take whatever an Alpha decides to give him, whether they’re fucking his mouth or his hole or whipping him until he’s unconscious. He’s not good for anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” There’s a hand on his shoulder again and it’s only then that Dean notices that his eyes are leaking. It’s silent, tears allowed as long as there’s no noise to accompany them that could disturb the masters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M sorry, Alpha.” Dean whispers it, not sure his voice will hold. “‘M sorry you have to put up with me. You can lock me away. ‘S okay.” At least it’ll be a familiar terror, unlike the heavy feeling he has in his gut right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to lock you away. I want to make burgers with you,” the Alpha says. It’s neither loud nor harsh, but it leaves no room for argument. “Come on.” The Alpha gently lays the book on the table, takes his hand and draws him up from the armchair. He doesn’t let go when he starts walking, either, holds Dean's hand all the way to the kitchen. Dean isn’t sure what it’s for, he’d have followed the Alpha anyway, but the grip doesn’t hurt, so Dean’s content enough to be kept close by. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, where do we start?” The Alpha asks him as soon as they are in the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s voice still cracks when he says, “I can do this on my own, Alpha. You don’t have to be here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m done with the work I had to do today. I have no other plans. So, should I wash and slice the tomatoes while you make the patties?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s easier with the Alpha proposing concrete steps, so Dean nods. “That would be great, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Let’s do this then.” The Alpha rolls up his sleeves before starting to unpack the box from the delivery. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean pushes up the sleeves of his hoodie, too, and washes his hands in the sink before opening up the fridge and taking out the ground beef that’s been thawing in there since the morning. It feels weird, taking stuff out of the fridge. The fridge was definitely off-limits in the manor. But the act also feels comforting somehow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks through the Alpha’s spice rack, trying to remember everything he needs, and it’s kind of nice that the Alpha’s kitchen is well-stocked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he has everything together, the Alpha has already brought out a bowl for the ground beef and a cutting board and put the large onion and a sharp knife next to it. “Do you want me to do this?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, thank you, Alpha,” Dean shakes his head. “You can wash the lettuce if you like, when you’re done with the tomatoes?” It comes out timid, the question still too close to telling an Alpha what to do for Dean’s liking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the Alpha nods easily, and grabs the lettuce. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peeling and cutting the onion is an easy rhythm to get back into. Say what you will about Dean’s dad but he did teach him how to wield a knife safely, and Dean doesn’t really mind the burn in his eyes from the juices too much. He cuts the onion slices into squares and puts a good amount of them in with the ground beef. Then comes salt and spices. He cracks an egg to put in with the rest, and then he’s mixing everything up and it looks and feels and smells like he remembers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha has made neat little stacks of tomato slices and lettuce leaves and has a pan heating on the oven with a bit of oil by the time Dean is done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Alpha.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” the Alpha smiles and makes space for Dean so that he can form the burger patties and put them in the pan, while the Alpha throws the fries in the second pan, which already has a deep layer of oil bubbling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The bread needs to be toasted, right?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s pretty sure the Alpha already knows that it does, but he still answers. “Yes, Alpha. Right before the patties are done, so that the buns are still warm when we assemble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” the Alpha nods and prepares for that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s almost easy, working side by side. The longer it goes, the more Dean’s adrenaline from before ebbs away, too. The Alpha seems peaceful enough. He’s watching the fries and burger patties sizzle and doesn’t smell mad or even upset. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, when he goes to get the china, Dean can’t help but ask, “Alpha?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two plates or just the one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can’t smell it over the food whether the Alpha’s scent changes, but his voice is tight when he answers, “Two plates, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Thank you, Alpha.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha nods and turns back to the pan to flip the patties while Dean prepares everything for stacking the burgers and then puts the buns in the toaster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They work in silence from there on, the Alpha draining the fries once they’re done and salting them, while Dean assembles the burgers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean brings all of their food to the table while the Alpha opens the fridge again. “Do you drink beer?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm,” Dean’s not sure how to answer that. Is it a trick question? The only times Dean got alcohol in the past years was when Master Lucifer took him to the club, and neither the choice of which alcohol nor of how much of it was ever Dean’s. “I’m okay with water, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But would you like a beer?” The Alpha rephrases. “Because I’m drinking beer with this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then?” Dean hazards, though he’s unsure about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he thinks he’s starting to figure the Alpha out a little. And really anything that the Alpha wanted of him so far and anything that has sweetened his scent instead of giving it more frustration, was when Dean had somehow accidentally managed to keep the Alpha easy company. Maybe for all that he doesn’t want a pet - or anyone, really - in his house, the Alpha is a little lonely. Maybe this is where Dean can be useful to him. He’d like that. And it’s not even just because it’s survival instinct. He’s pretty sure by now that the Alpha won’t do any lasting damage either way. But that doesn’t mean Dean enjoys the heavy feeling of being useless to the Alpha that he’d gotten before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha puts two bottles of beer on the table and sits down. “Well, let’s see how our first team effort turned out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods and sits down, too. He doesn’t ask this time and it’s the right move, because the Alpha’s scent relaxes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To our burgers.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha holds out his beer bottle and it takes Dean a moment to recognize that he’s supposed to clink against it with his own bottle. Another thing that Alphas do among themselves, but would never normally involve an omega in. Let alone a pet. The Alpha really must be lonely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean clinks with the bottles and the Alpha smiles, and they’re both taking a sip and it’s different, but Dean doesn’t hate it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks at the label of the bottle. El Sol. He’s never heard of it. Not that he’d know much about beer. At the club, they served mostly cheap brands of everything, and at home Master Michael preferred wine and Master Lucifer went right to the heavy liquor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Dean, this is fantastic.” When Dean looks up, the Alpha is just taking a big bite out of his burger. He chews with his eyes closed and a big smile on his face. “I so rarely indulge, I forgot how </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>this tastes. Thank you so much for making it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh,” Dean stammers. The Alpha had helped a lot, so it’s hardly even fair to say that Dean made this. But the compliment warms his insides anyway. “I’m glad you like it, Alpha.” It comes out more bashful than he'd intended and Dean quickly covers up the fact that he’s blushing by taking a bite of his own burger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And goddammit, he suddenly understands why Castiel closed his eyes, because Dean’s eyes fall closed as well as he savors the taste. It’s just the right amount of spicy, the juice dripping, the patty not too greasy, the cheese melted, the lettuce crunchy and fresh, the tomatoes and ketchup rounding it all out and, oh God, Dean’s gotta concentrate here cause he’s making noises. Or at least the Alpha has stopped eating and is staring right at him. Dean hurries to chew and swallow, but it’s hard to contain the happiness his mouth and stomach feel right now. “Thank you, Alpha. Thank you for letting me have this.” It’s heartfelt and he looks at the Alpha, too, while he says it, and then they’re caught again because the Alpha hasn’t stopped staring, and what is it with this dude and eye contact? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, it’s the Alpha who breaks the contact again, clearing his throat and putting his burger down to taste a fry. And oh yeah, there are fries, too! Dean gets excited all over. He doesn’t think he’s ever had homemade fries, only the frozen kind that you just warm up. He bites into the fry and oh, the Alpha was right, this is a great recipe. The outside of the fry is crunchy and the inside is soft and creamy like a miniature cloud. “Oh, these are really good, Alpha,” Dean praises, and when he looks at the Alpha this time, the Alpha is looking bashful and is blushing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad. It’s been a long time since I had the chance to cook for anyone. I’m glad you enjoy what little skill I possess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no,” Dean shakes his head, “you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span> cook, Alpha. And like, not just for an Alpha, but for anyone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shuts up abruptly when he notices what he’s said, but the Alpha laughs. “Thank you, Dean. I’ll take that as a great compliment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what it was meant to be,” Dean mumbles. Goddamn, he’s so bad at this. "I'm sor-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No," the Alpha cuts him off. "Stop apologizing. It isn't necessary."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean presses his lips together. It is totally necessary because he keeps fucking up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs. “Let me ask you a question. Did you apologize this much with my brothers?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. "I was theirs for a very long time. I got good at following their rules and anticipating what they needed from me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what you’re trying to do? Anticipating what I need from you? And then you’re apologizing when you believe your guess was wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This line of questioning is uncomfortable, so Dean stops eating. “I understand that you don’t want me here, Alpha. I’m not trying to - ingratiate myself or anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, I -,” The Alpha rubs a hand over his face. “I never wanted a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that’s what I said.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>a pet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They classified you as one at the center, yes. But before that, you were a human being. You still are one. I never wanted to own a pet, and I still don’t want to own you as a pet. But Dean, that doesn’t mean that you as - Dean are unwelcome here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean is not really sure what that means, because there’s no way to separate the two. The Alpha inherited him and now he owns him. Dean's classified as a pet, so he will be sold on as such until he’s too old and no one’s interested in him anymore. At which point, if he’s lucky he’ll be reclassified and end up as custodial omega-staff somewhere. But really, life expectancy for pets and mares is not that high. It is likely to never become an issue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, can I ask you a question?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course, Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think it might be possible for us to enjoy each other's company? If you help me with what you need, I can give you enough rules that you feel comfortable. But other than that I'd just - like to get to know you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course that doesn't make sense, either. There's nothing to get to know about Dean. He's a toy, shaped by his masters' wishes. But at least he can answer the question, weird as the answer is even to himself. "I already enjoy your company, Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Will you call me Castiel?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything in Dean shivers at the thought, just like it had yesterday. It's not respectful enough. He'd thought Master Michael's and Master Lucifer's names, if only to differentiate his masters in his mind, but he's never even whispered the names in the manor. Still, the Alpha can command as he wishes. "If you want me to, I will, Alpha Castiel."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles. "Close enough, I guess. Well then, let's finish eating before everything gets cold."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They do, Castiel talking about heirloom tomatoes and natural reserves of old seeds, and Dean listening and nodding and enjoying the sheer amount of food he's getting to eat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His stomach is dealing reasonably well and he's not going to leave any food that he was given on the plate, but he has to fight through the second half of his fries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The beer helps, sloshing around gently in Dean's stomach. He can feel it trying to relax his mind, too, though he's fighting the effects. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha doesn't seem interested in making him lose his mental capabilities, though, or at the very least he seems content that both of them are nursing just the one beer. It makes it a little easier to enjoy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We should watch a movie."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?" Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Charlie - my editor - told me there's a new version of Murder on the Orient Express, but I never got around to watching it. We could do that tonight."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whatever you want, Alpha - Castiel," Dean quickly corrects himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Would you enjoy it?" The Alpha persists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Alpha Castiel, I think I would," Dean nods, because he does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Most of his movie experiences since he presented do not include him actually getting to watch the movie. It’s mostly him kneeling on the floor warming his master's cock or getting his mouth fucked. Not that the movies were usually anything other than porn in the first place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean's pretty sure that with Alpha Castiel that's not how it's gonna go, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Let’s get the dishes out of the way then, so we can start the movie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They work together to put the dishes away, and really, Dean’s not getting used to this whole Alpha-doing-menial-tasks thing any time soon. Castiel asks him whether he wants a second beer, and when Dean very carefully declines, he fills two tall glasses of water for them. Dean asks for permission to go to the bathroom before they start the movie and earns a bewildered look and an, “Of course.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he’s coming back, the Alpha is already sitting on the couch, remote in hand, searching the streaming app for the movie. His brow is creased in concentration, but there’s also this air of excitement about him, like he’s genuinely looking forward to their evening. And from where they started out - the Alpha not even wanting to take him home - this is certainly better than expected, even though it can’t last. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t let that thought get a hold of him and instead quickly crosses the room to sink to his knees next to the Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know that you can sit on the couch, right? Whether it’s proper or not,” the Alpha frowns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is fine, Alpha.” Because it really is. Something about the familiar position is grounding in a way that all the niceties aren’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” the Alpha grumbles, but he reaches for the throw pillow to give it to Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Dean mumbles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feel free to come up here when it becomes too uncomfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods, though he doesn’t think that that’s gonna be an issue. A few hours of kneeling on a soft pillow, free to shift his weight as he needs to? Nothing about that seems uncomfortable to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, here it is.” The Alpha has found the movie. “Ready?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha Castiel,” Dean nods and moves until he’s kneeling alongside the Alpha’s legs so that he has a clear view of the TV. He’s a little excited, too, actually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here we go then.” The Alpha hits play and the music starts up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s immediately intrigued, the colorful setting and foreign accents drawing him into the world of the movie and away from the dreariness of his life. There’s not much mention of omegas, other than a few omega-servants in the background, but at least that also means that there’s no moralizing about how to bring omegas to heel, so Dean’ll take it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets engrossed, and the Alpha does, too, apparently, leaning forward, his elbow on the armrest behind Dean and his legs pressing closer. Dean doesn’t mind. The Alpha’s not crowding him, not really. In fact, since the Alpha is so close already, Dean presses a little closer, too, leaning against the Alpha’s leg like he'd done yesterday. It feels right, somehow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The train tracks have just been half buried under an avalanche when the Alpha suddenly hits pause. “Oh no, we forgot!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sits up straight immediately. “Alpha?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.” The Alpha gets up with purpose and all Dean can do is stare at his retreating back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s not sure whether there’s cause for alarm. The Alpha’s scent hadn’t exactly changed to distress, just to his brand of irritation, which so far hasn’t had any negative consequences for Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha clangs around in the kitchen, as far as Dean can tell, and then ten minutes later he shows back up, balancing two plates. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ohhh. Pie!” Dean swoons as the Alpha carefully hands him one the plates. He had forgotten about that, too, that the Alpha bought pie because Dean saw it and almost drooled on his phone. But now there’s a warm piece of apple pie, vanilla ice cream slowly melting on top of it, and it’s easily the best thing Dean’s seen in years. He brings his nose close to smell it. The sweet aroma of apple and cinnamon and vanilla mixes, and somehow, it isn’t actually all that far away from how the Alpha himself smells when he’s happy. The thought makes him blush, because on a pie, that is definitely a smell Dean wants to devour. “Thank you, Alpha.” Dean doesn’t think he’s ever thanked someone from deeper in his heart than right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha chuckles and brushes a hand along Dean’s shoulder as he sits down. “Enjoy your pie, Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean immediately presses in close again - a thank you of its own - because this is kind of one of the best evenings Dean’s had like - ever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha hits play and Dean’s got to split his attention between the movie and the pie, and as good as the movie is, the pie wins out. He’s kind of sure that his stomach will hurt something awful tonight, because he’s not used to this much rich food, but he’s also completely sure that it’s worth it. He forces himself to slow down, to eat attentively and enjoy every single bite. It’s absolutely clear to him that it’s already the best thing ever that Master Michael and Master Lucifer offed each other, no matter what happens from here on out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scrapes even the last drops of melted ice cream from the plate when he’s done, already mourning the loss after having finished his plate. But his stomach is so full that he couldn’t take even a crumb more anyway, so with a tiny sigh he puts the empty plate on the table, and on an impulse doesn’t only lean his weight against Castiel’s leg, but actually hugs his leg and puts his head on his knee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, the Alpha freezes, then his hand comes up to Dean’s neck and for a second he can’t breathe because he’s sure the Alpha will violently remove him, but then Castiel wraps his fingers into Dean’s hair and gently scratches his scalp and Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>melts</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, this is more than a silver lining, this is the best evening ever. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Posting a day early this week because I have an exhausting week ahead of me. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean is happily drowsy by the time the movie ends. The Alpha’s hand is still in his hair and Dean thinks it would totally be okay if it stayed there forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to get this off of you.” The Alpha taps the metal of the collar with his finger. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Dean hums. This collar or another one doesn’t make much difference to him. And he knows that it will just get replaced, because it’s the law that omegas need to wear a locked collar with their master’s name on it so that it’s clear that they are property and are neither to flee nor to be stolen. Dean guesses the latter is more important for the omega-servants who need to run errands outside than for pets who are locked inside the house and never go out alone anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley didn’t come through with any answers about how to open it without my brothers’ fingerprints, unfortunately,” the Alpha sighs. “I guess we’ll have to get a little more creative.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s fingers are gone from Dean’s hair then and when he turns around to look at the Alpha, he’s typing away on his phone with a concentrated frown. He stops for a moment when apparently something is happening on his screen, and then there is a tiny smile even while the Alpha shakes his head, and then he’s typing again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It goes like that for a few more times before the Alpha looks up and says, “She wants a picture of the lock.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Dean a moment to catch on, but then he feels along the collar until he finds the lock. He turns it towards Castiel, who snaps a picture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods and turns the collar back so that the D-ring is in front again. He doesn’t think this Alpha even owns a leash. He’d probably have to knot a shoestring into the collar to improvise. Dean almost snorts at the image, even though he can’t say that he relishes the thought of being leashed. But the Alpha with a shoestring would be kind of hilarious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. She’s gonna come by tomorrow morning to see what can be done,” the Alpha nods, obviously satisfied with this result. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kind of wants to ask, but it’s also not his place, so Dean just nods as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you tired?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. He is a little drowsy, but he also slept basically the whole afternoon, so he’s not deadly exhausted or anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know a show that you might like, since you like sweet things.” The Alpha clicks around the screen a few times and then clicks on a show called Zumbo’s Just Desserts. “I’m not sure there’s pie, but we can find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The show is about competing to make the best desserts and Dean is not quite sure whether he likes it or whether it makes him intensely jealous because he’s never gonna make or eat any of these wonderful looking confections. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel throws in comments every so often. Apparently, he really dislikes an older Alpha who is an auto salesman in daily life. Dean agrees that the guy sounds like the type of knothead who takes out any bad sales day on his omegas, but he knows better than voicing an opinion like that out loud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean's personally rooting for the shy Asian beta-girl who does the craziest shit whenever she's not having a breakdown because the consistency of something or other is not quite right. She does in fact win the round, leaving two less successful bakers to face off to avoid elimination. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As predicted, Dean’s stomach keeps hurting into the next episode. It started as a few twinges, which Dean tried to stay still and breathe through, willing the pain to subside. But it's not letting up. In fact, it's getting worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” The Alpha asks, and okay, it’s a bad sign if his scent shows his distress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Alpha,” Dean answers, and really in comparison to other things that have happened in his life, this is utterly fine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha takes his answer at face-value and keeps watching the show, which is good, but it unfortunately doesn’t help with the pain. Cause where there were twinges at first, there are now cramps and it takes all of Dean‘s willpower to stay upright and still, because all he really wants is to curl up on the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha pauses the show. He sounds worried now. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Dean can’t tell him. If Dean tells him, he’ll be fed just enough bland food to not waste away. He’ll never get a burger and fries and pie again, because no one who is this ungrateful gets good food ever again, so Dean shakes his head. “I’m fine,” he insists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the wrong thing to say, very much the wrong thing to say, because the Alpha’s scent and voice darken, and he grasps Dean’s shoulder to turn him around. “Don’t lie to me!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean whimpers and cowers and suddenly the nausea is overwhelming, “Alpha, bathroom,” Dean pleads and the Alpha lets go of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sprints as fast as he can - </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t make a mess don’t make a mess</span>
  </em>
  <span> - and it’s coming up before he’s reached the toilet, but he presses his mouth shut, though it’s choking him and he needs air, God, he won’t make it, but then he’s there. He falls to his knees, pushing the seat up in the same movement and then he retches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s horrible and he hates it and he’s crying because the evening was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so good</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he was pretty sure the Alpha was almost starting to like him, as much as Alphas can like omegas, and now Dean’s gone ahead and ruined it. Has repaid all the kindness and consideration with being a mess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flushes the toilet after the first round of vomit is out, though he’s in no way sure that that was everything. He’s not had this much to eat in so long. God, he’d enjoyed feeling full because there was food in his stomach and not because an Alpha’s dick was shoved up his ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stupid, stupid, he’s so stupid. He curls into himself, trying to breathe, but it’s harder now because he’s still crying and the snot is stuffing up his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a glass of water suddenly in front of his face and Dean flinches away from it, but then there’s a hand holding him in place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rinse your mouth with it. You’ll make yourself more sick if you still smell and taste the bile.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The explanation makes some sense and the voice brooks no argument, so Dean’s body takes over, obeying the Alpha on instinct. There’s no place to spit but the toilet bowl, so he does that, sinking back against the cool tile of the bathtub when he’s done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha flushes the toilet again before he asks. “Do you think you’re done or do you need to vomit again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The crying has abated a little with the distraction of the task the Alpha had set, but now it comes back. Dean hiccups as he tries to force his voice to comply. Nothing but a pitiful whimper comes out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hunches, protecting his face behind his arms when the Alpha comes closer, because he knows he’s not obeying and he knows he’s fucked everything up, and he understands that he deserves punishment, but still, he can’t help it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs. “Put your arms down, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean whimpers again. Stupid, so stupid. Things were so good. This evening could have been so good. He expects immediate pain, because he’s taking too long to obey and he knows it, but his arms want to protect him, and why isn’t the Alpha just prying them away? With his Alpha-strength he can literally bend Dean to his will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh God, this is a test, isn’t it? One of those games like Master Lucifer liked to play. The ones where Dean’s gotta do the thing that will hurt him to prove that he’s a good pet, that he submits to his master, that he’s worthy of being kept because his fear is never stronger than his wish to obey his master’s will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he has to. He has to force his arms down. He has to get in position - which position did the master want? Did he want him to kneel? To genuflect? To present? Dean racks his brain, but he’s forgotten. Oh God, he’s forgotten the basics, he’s gonna get this wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries moving, and it hurts, his stomach still cramping, and he thinks there’s really only one option, even if it’s wrong, because the only option that won't make him throw up again is to stay upright, so he can’t present, he can only kneel. He forces his body to move, to shift into the familiar position, and it hurts, his stomach hurts and his knees hurt and his hands, when he forces them down, cramp into fabric, and why is there even fabric covering his legs, this is wrong, this is all wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful, now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean flinches again when the touch comes and he squeezes his eyes shut, at least wants to protect his eyes, and then it’s warm and wet and - that’s a washcloth, not a punch. Dean holds still, too shocked to do much else while the Alpha cleans his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’s done, the Alpha throws the washcloth in the sink and asks, “Can you stand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean takes stock of his limbs and they’re trembling and he knows he’s gotta try, but it's kind of taking up all of his energy just to stay upright while kneeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” the Alpha says. “Come on then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha stands and Dean tries to get his legs to move, but he really doesn’t even get the chance, because there’s a strong grip under his shoulders, and then he’s being moved upwards, and then there’s an arm under his knees and the Alpha grunts and Dean holds on for dear life, and then he gets carried to the bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another grunt when the Alpha deposits him on the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arms up,” he commands and this time, Dean’s arms work. It makes the Alpha hum in approval before he draws the hoodie over Dean’s head, leaving only the undershirt. “Off with the jeans and under the covers. I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s not really sure what’s happened, he’s barely even sure where he is, and for some goddamned reason he’s still crying, but he knows a command when he hears one, so he makes his trembling fingers fight with the belt and the buttons of the jeans, and okay, it is a bit of a relief when the pressure of the pants is off his stomach. He tries to fold the jeans neatly, but his vision is blurry, and he’s pretty sure the result is gonna leave wrinkles and he doesn’t want that, so he unfolds the jeans and folds them again, because this is a small thing and he can get this one small thing right at least, he can show the Alpha that he appreciates these clothes, that he takes care of them, that he can be trusted with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Give me that. Under the covers now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha takes the jeans from him and it spurns a new wave of tears, because Dean’s useless, he’s useless. “Please, Alpha, please, I can get it right, please.” He’s got no idea how much of that is actually understandable because he’s still hiccuping, but it doesn’t matter anyway, because the Alpha has already put the pants aside and is firmly pushing Dean back against the pillows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean goes limp, lets the Alpha manhandle him under the covers until he’s satisfied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.” The Alpha is holding out another glass of water and two white pills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shudder in Dean’s limbs increases tenfold. “Please, Alpha, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there’s no softness in the Alpha’s scent now, just determination. “Take these. With the water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits, his hand outstretched, and this is still a test, isn’t it? The first hit didn’t come, but that doesn’t mean that the game is over, it’s even more fun, keeping your prey off guard. And there’s nothing he can do, if he doesn’t play the game he’ll be in the dark, or maybe under the water or maybe… Dean takes the pills and drowns them with the water before handing the glass back to the Alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, that should help. But if not, there’s a bucket right here next to the bed. And if you're thirsty, I'm putting the glass on the nightstand. I’m gonna go clean up the bathroom, but I’ll be right back. You stay where you are until then and rest. Understood?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods, though he would nod to anything the Alpha says right now. But it seems to be enough because the Alpha sighs and gets up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call me if you feel worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he’s gone and Dean’s free to try to get his breathing under control. Which he does, he really really does, but he’s got no idea what the Alpha just gave him, and now the Alpha is cleaning up a bathroom that smells of vomit while Dean’s in this nice bed under warm covers and everything is wrong, utterly wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should be on the floor at least, probably a few kicks to his ribs and his stomach included, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘so that at least you’ve got something to actually cry over’, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he’d get out of the bed and curl up on the floor right now to show the Alpha that he can be good, that he can be content without any of the niceties, that he’s not always a burden. Only the Alpha had said, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘stay where you are’</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so Dean doesn’t dare move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, he’s still in exactly the same position he was in before the Alpha left and also still crying when the Alpha comes back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here,” the Alpha hands him a pack of tissues he brought and then goes over to his side of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Alpha,” Dean mumbles, less hiccup-y now, but voice wobbly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha nods and methodically starts stripping down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It freezes Dean in place. Still a test? He’s a little calmer and not quite sure anymore. The pills haven’t done anything weird so far, all that’s happened is that the cramps have abated. But then, it’s probably not fun to be knotted to a retching omega, so if the Alpha wants to show him his place, maybe he wanted to make it so that Dean would still hurt, but only so much that he could keep it together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the Alpha stops when he’s still wearing a shirt and boxers. He turns on the light on his bedside table and goes to turn off the overhead light. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean follows his every movement, but the Alpha goes back to the other side of the bed and slips under the covers from there. For a long moment, he watches Dean. Dean’s still sniffling and he’s still tense, but he’s not quite as panicky anymore, so he stays motionless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you feel a little better?” The Alpha asks after a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods quietly. He does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” the Alpha says. “It was too much food for you today, wasn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t want to admit it, but he got called out on a lie once before today and he doesn’t think it will go great for him if he lies again. “Yes, Alpha,” he confesses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs. “I should have remembered that. We need to get your stomach used to rich foods and full portions more slowly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. He's lived off scraps and leftovers for so long, he can do it again. But that can't be all the punishment for his making a mess. Only the Alpha is not saying anything else. Is Dean supposed to ask? Master Michael usually wanted that. But that was when Dean had broken a rule that he knew the punishment for. Then he was supposed to ask for the lashes and say thank you for the correction after. But Dean doesn't know the punishments here. Is it even lashes that are the punishment for wasting food this way? If the punishment should fit the crime then should he ask not to be fed again? But for how long? Dinner and dessert wasted, how much time does that make? No food through the day and another dinner? But that's barely balancing out the crime, not atoning for it. Two days and nights then at least. That's not that much. And he's kept yesterday's soup down and this morning's omelet. That will help with not blacking out too soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dean?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean flinches at the Alpha's voice, he's not figured this out yet. He doesn't want to blurt out something wrong. "Please just punish me. Please don't make me guess how long I don't get to eat or how many lashes I should ask for."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's wrong again, the burned smell of anger coming back full force. Instead of yelling, the Alpha turns away from him, though, facing the wall and taking deep breaths. "I'd kill them. If they hadn't killed each other, I'd definitely kill them right now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean's trembling comes back at the utter conviction in the Alpha's voice. It's a cold certainty of violence that is completely at odds with the Alpha's usual temperament, but Dean doesn't believe for a moment that he wouldn't follow through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And somehow it's just as clear to him that it shouldn't ever have to happen. This Alpha isn't violent. He should write about murder, not commit it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alpha?" Dean starts hesitantly. The Alpha doesn't react so Dean swallows heavily. "Alpha Castiel?" He asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That gets a reaction. The Alpha swivels around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stems himself against the instinct to cower back. "You're not them. I know it. You need to know it, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, there is nothing but silence. Then the Alpha deflates. From one moment to the other, the flaming anger in his scent burns out, leaving only some roasted spices and his usual cinnamon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes Dean exhale in relief. He softly says, "You're not gonna punish me, are you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," the Alpha shakes his head. "I was going to ask you -," he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at Dean again, "I'm not sure if this is a good idea, but I know that sometimes - sometimes an Alpha's scent helps when an omega feels sick? So I was thinking - would you want to -," he stops talking, but he sits back against the headboard and opens his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean does a double take and immediately the Alpha's face falls and he lets his arm sink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry. Of course my scent wouldn't help. Alpha's have never been good to you and you barely know me. I probably share a family scent with my brothers, too, and I'm not good at any of this and..." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dean stops the ramble by sliding over to the Alpha. Ho looks up at him again for permission and the Alpha shuts up and opens his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean very carefully lies down on his side, the Alpha's arm coming up around him, pulling him close until Dean's head ends up on the Alpha's chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this okay?" The Alpha asks and Dean nods into his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good," the Alpha exhales and stretches to turn out the lamp before relaxing back into the bed. The hand on Dean's back starts to gently pet forward and backward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would make Dean tense up again, touch like this in his experience rarely purely friendly, only the Alpha doesn't smell aroused and he doesn't move his hand under Dean's shirt, either. He just rubs slow circles into Dean's back until Dean's muscles relax under him, his body deciding that this is okay. That the panic from before is unnecessary now. That he can expel the adrenaline and exchange against breathing in the Alpha's calm scent and letting his stomach settle down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm really sorry about the food," Dean whispers. "It was all so good. I didn't want to ruin the night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You didn't ruin anything," the Alpha answers. "I blame myself, honestly. I should have remembered that it wouldn't be good for your stomach to have this many fatty foods after being starved."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I remembered," Dean admits quietly. "I just - I wanted the pie so badly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, the Alpha chuckles at that. "Remind me to never underestimate your love for pie."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Dean agrees, though he's well aware that he's been giving the Alpha a lot of material to use against him in the past few days, if that's what the Alpha wants to do with all of this information about Dean. But then, the Alpha’s not going to keep him, and while of course it’s possible that he’d talk to Dean’s next master, it’s much more likely that an auction house will handle the transaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this position hurting you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your scent turned really acidic just now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Dean grimaces. Has he always been so easy to read? That’s not a good thing. Can be used against him way too easily, too. “This is fine, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?” Dean can literally hear the raised eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I was thinking about the facility. The auction house, to be precise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” The Alpha’s hand on Dean’s back stops moving. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘S okay, Alpha,” Dean sighs, because that had actually felt nice. “‘S not like I’m gonna be there for very long. I think, anyway. Depends on whether people think I’m already too old and used up to be made into a good pet for them I guess.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That makes the Alpha tighten his hold around Dean, though Dean’s not sure that the Alpha is aware of it. And yeah, the Alpha has an interest in the outcome of this, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean I think I’m gonna still sell and make you a profit, Alpha,” Dean shrugs a little helplessly. He can’t really do anything about his age or the amount of times he’s already been fucked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the wrong thing to say again, the Alpha’s grip tightening to the point of pain before he takes a deep breath and consciously relaxes his hold. “Hush, now. That’s not a worry for today. Today you need to focus on resting and letting your stomach get better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean answers peacefully because he’s okay with that. He has no influence over his fate anyway, so he’s long ago learned that it’s best to take any quiet, friendly moment as a win and enjoy it. Which is why he does his best to relax back into the Alpha’s hold and shut off his thoughts. It prompts the Alpha to start rubbing his back again, and seeing how Dean felt just an hour or so ago when he was puking his guts out, this is kind of better than any best case scenarios he could have come up with. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next morning, Dean wakes up hungry. It’s not a surprise maybe, seeing how he lost his dinner last night, but it kind of still surprises him. He’s only been here for a few days, and yet his stomach apparently demands food now. Loudly, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha is barely stirring and he grumbles at the noise, a possessive hand tightening over Dean’s hip before the Alpha’s eyes open. He looks at his own hand in confusion and then pulls it back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s apparently still warm and fuzzy from sleep, because he immediately misses the touch. He files it under </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird things that shouldn’t be a thing but apparently are a thing in this house</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s an ever-evolving list. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should get up, we’re gonna have a visitor this morning after all,” the Alpha yawns and shoots a look at the clock on the nightstand. “Did you sleep well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods, because he doesn’t remember lying awake at any point in time. No nightmares to speak of, either. What he does remember, though, is that every time he half-woke up to turn over, there was a hand somewhere on him, a warm point of contact connecting him to the Alpha. It didn’t feel stifling or like the Alpha was keeping him trapped or anything. In fact, Dean had not only not minded it, but his half-memories seem to suggest that he had leaned into it, snuggling closer to the Alpha’s warmth every time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s a little too much to puzzle out in the morning, so Dean rolls out of bed. There’s the small stack of clothes on the floor where he left it. “Alpha Castiel?” he asks and bends down to retrieve the jeans where they were lying all crumpled up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha comes around to his side of the bed. “I should free up a drawer for your clothes, huh?” he says, yawns again and stretches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes get drawn to the sliver of skin that shows when the Alpha’s shirt rides up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm. I was going to ask what I should wear today. If I should wear anything,” he amends, because he’s got no idea what the protocol for visitors is at this Alpha’s house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yes, you should totally wear something, Charlie would not appreciate it if you didn’t.” The Alpha chuckles and then frowns. “We should get you your own clothes probably, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. “It’s not necessary, Alpha. If I’m allowed to wash these, I can keep wearing them while I’m here. And since that won’t be so long…,” he shrugs. “Makes no sense to spend money on something that won’t be useful next month.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seems to wake the Alpha up, though it’s not in a good way. His scent turns all bristly again. Dean’s got no idea what he said that’s wrong, though. It’s a fact that any clothes that the Alpha buys him now will stay behind when Dean goes to the auction house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha goes to a drawer and pulls out a long-sleeved shirt, and then to another one to add some socks. “Here. You should still have some clean underwear, and we can put everything that needs washing in the machine in the afternoon. Just put it all in the laundry basket for now.” He points to a large basket next to the dresser. "We'll decide about more clothes later. I need coffee first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can make it for you, Alpha," Dean offers. It can't be that hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles. "I'll make you a deal. We shower, brush our teeth and get dressed and then I'll show you how the coffee maker works, alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they do that, both of them going through a morning routine, independent of each other, but still having to be somewhat in sync because they are using the same bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's painfully domestic. The kind of domestic Dean would expect from a beta couple. It messes with his mind and he keeps touching his collar to remind himself that this is all too nice to be true and that the reason for that is that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>an illusion that he'll wake up from eventually, naked and chained to an auction block. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha is patient about explaining the coffee maker which is one of the modern ones that you can get to make a pot of black coffee, but that really can make a bazillion different drinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you said that black coffee is nothing you enjoy. I usually make it because - well, because I’m lazy and I can keep a pot on simmer for the whole morning. But now that you know that the machine can also make things like cappuccinos or lattes, would you be interested in that? I can also show you my tea selection, if you’d like to try whether there are teas you like after all?” The Alpha asks.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean thinks over the many options, but really, "Water is fine," he mumbles. Makes no sense to waste the Alpha's resources. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm," the Alpha is apparently not convinced by the answer. "Tell you what. Here, let me hand you two mugs. You decide what you want, but I think something warm is a good idea, especially after yesterday. I’m fine with a cup of black coffee, if you could make it. I'll see what I can find for breakfast in the meantime."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves Dean to ponder and ponder, Dean does. "Alpha?" He asks after a while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Would you want one of the fancy ones, if I made it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, I’d enjoy that," the Alpha smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Which one?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You decide. In the meantime, I’m gonna make scrambled eggs and toast some toast," the Alpha declares. “Yes. That is my decision for breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t warrant an answer from Dean, so he busies himself with getting the low-fat milk from the fridge. The theory of what to do is pretty clear to him, but he’s still exceptionally careful touching the machine. He doesn’t even want accidental spillage, let alone break anything. But he does want to prove to the Alpha that he can be trusted with equipment, at least to a degree. That the Alpha doesn’t have to do everything himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chooses the cappuccino option, since it’s got the milk but is still somewhat close to the normal coffee the Alpha made yesterday. Anything latte is even further away from that. It’s definitely not a thing his former masters would ever feed him, so he thinks he’s on the safe side trying it for himself, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The machine does most of the work by itself after Dean provides it with the milk, which is great news because he’s got no idea about the right ratios. The only slight hiccup is when the coffee is already made, because he has to clean the milk sucking thingie and that’s gotta be done with the hot steam option, and “ouch,” Dean yelps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately, the Alpha swivels around. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean says tightly and shakes out his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha surveys what happened and grasps Dean by the wrist to pull him over to the sink and hold his hand under cold water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean yelps again, though the cold water actually feels good after the first shock. “I’m okay, Alpha,” he says after a minute. “Mainly just surprised me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sends him an unimpressed look and holds his hand under the water for another minute before letting go. At least he doesn’t call him out on the half-lie, though he obviously noticed it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha finishes the scrambled eggs while Dean puts the cappuccinos on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See which of the jams in the fridge you’d like? There should be peanut butter somewhere as well. Oh, and put some butter on the table, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s stomach is on-board with the command, immediately reminding Dean that hunger is an issue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, the rest of him is still upset about having wasted the Alpha's food yesterday. "Plain toast is fine for me, Alpha, I don't need anything else," he says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is your stomach still upset?" The Alpha asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. His stomach is mostly just empty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then go find something in the fridge that you want on your toast." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean mumbles. It doesn’t feel like he deserves it, but he doesn’t protest again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are several different jams and jellies in the fridge. Since Dean doesn't know which ones the Alpha likes, he carries everything that's already open to the table. Castiel in the meantime brings the plates and cutlery, already divvying up the eggs. That leaves the toast, which pops out of the toaster a moment later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe not the most splendid ever, but this should be okay for your stomach," the Alpha nods with a satisfied glance over the selection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn't agree with the first part. It looks like a feast to him, especially with the fancy cappuccino and everything. Double so with the fact that he'd been certain yesterday that he wouldn't get much substantial in terms of food anymore anytime soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now he gets to munch his way through a tasty plate of scrambled eggs and even gets to try three of the assorted jams, too, before he’s too full to eat any more. He's careful not to take too much of them so that he doesn’t make himself sick again, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You like sweet things, don't you?" The Alpha asks. It doesn't sound either judgmental or calculating, more like a casual observation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean takes another bite of his toast, the blueberry jam on top not quite as good as blueberry pie, but still pretty decent. "I think I like a lot of things," Dean answers. "Well, maybe not rabbit food." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha laughs. "And what exactly gets specified as rabbit food?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Green things. Salads and stuff. Kale."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Kale is very healthy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but it's also rabbit food."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha laughs again. "Oh, Gabriel would like you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean frowns because the name triggers a memory. "Master Lucifer knew someone named Gabriel."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods. "That would be the same person I’m talking about. Michael never mentioned him, huh? Figures."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He knows him, too?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods. "He should. Gabriel is our brother. Our omega brother."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Dean hadn’t known that part. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My family prides itself in producing only Alpha offspring,” Castiel grimaces. “Which is why it doesn’t surprise me that Michael never even mentioned him. I’m sure he pretends that he never existed. Pretended, I mean,” the Alpha amends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he...” Dean bites his lip. It’s none of his business what happened to the omega brother after he presented. Omegas from rich families rarely end at the training facility. They get private tutors and end up being sold either directly or in the high-end auction houses, where both the slaves and the buyers need a pedigree. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you because I don’t know. I’m personally hoping that he’s still somewhere in Europe. In a progressive region. Amsterdam maybe? Living in a house next to a gracht and baking edibles. It would fit him perfectly, in my opinion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” Dean can’t say he expected any of that. “In Europe, do omegas, umm, can they live in houses and bake?” He feels stupid, asking it, but he’s not exactly learned much about world politics in school, and his access to world news since then has been non-existent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In some countries, yes,” Castiel nods. “There’s a power struggle going on between the progressive movement and the traditionalists even in countries like the Netherlands. But omegas have significantly more rights there than here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Dean says again, because he hadn’t known that. Then of course, that’s not exactly information that owners would like their omegas to have. It might give them ideas. “So your parent didn’t sell him? They sent him to Europe instead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent darkens as he shakes his head. “I wish that was what happened. But no, my parent would have sold him, same as anyone else. Well, with the additional issue that he brought shame on the family’s impeccable Alpha offspring record, so they didn’t want him in the system. They had a rich old Alpha lined up who wanted to buy him as a mare. But Gabriel is -,” the Alpha’s scent lightens a little, “smart. Tricksy. Not easy to subdue. He ran. I got a few unsigned postcards over the years while I was still living at home. Prague. Berlin. Paris. I pretended they were from my friend Meg, but I knew they were from him. So he made it to Europe, I know that much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love him.” It surprises Dean so much that he says it out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a pain. But yes, I love him. I never understood how people can just - cross out the memory of their omega siblings. Whether someone’s an omega or not, they’re part of your family, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “A pet’s not family.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you weren’t born a pet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t make a difference,” Dean whispers and tries his best to banish the image of Sam that wants to crop up. He’s not gonna tell the Alpha about that. He’s gonna keep it in his heart where it belongs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha doesn’t get to answer because the doorbell rings. “Oh, that will be her. Can you bring a new plate? She’s always hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's already gone to the door before Dean can ask anything, so he takes his own plate and puts it in the dishwasher. He's done anyway. He puts the new plate where his had been and adds a knife and a teaspoon. That should be okay for toast. Which is all they have left, since they ate all of the scrambled eggs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are only the two chairs, so Dean pretty much has the option to stand awkwardly or find a place to kneel and be out of the way. Her opts for the latter and kneels next to Castiel's chair. It seems safest to stay within the Alpha's reach. Not because the Alpha might punish him otherwise, but because Dean's got no idea who this visitor is and he'd rather be in Castiel's reach than in anyone else's. For once, it’s a thought about the Alpha that Dean has no hesitation in analysing. Knowing who you’re dealing with is always better than having to try to guess your way through the orders of someone new.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha and his visitor come into the room only a minute after he's got settled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So I've -,” the bright voice stumbles. “Holy fuck, it's actually true. I didn't want to believe it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alpha Castiel sounds frustrated when he says, "Yes. Of course it's true. Did you think my request was a joke?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no, I mean, you sent me a picture of the lock and everything, it's just that it makes no sense. I mean - it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs deeply. "Which shows that you didn't listen when I told you about the rest of my family."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I listen to you when you tell me stuff! Most of the time anyway. So, what now? We have breakfast while he kneels there and doesn't eat? Cause, Cas, I gotta tell you…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We just ate, Charlie," the Alpha interrupts, now sounding and smelling properly irritated. "I asked Dean to put out a fresh plate for you, because I assumed you were hungry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm always hungry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes. That," The Alpha gripes. "Dean, please get up and offer Charlie some coffee or whatever else she wants to drink. I'll go get another chair from the office."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So I'm allowed to talk to him?" Charlie asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha groans. "Of course you are."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And he's allowed to talk to me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Charlie. Yes, of course he is. Though I can’t promise you he’s gonna </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk to you if you keep this up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the visitor doesn’t take the bait. "We can talk without you being present?" she asks instead, sounding sly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well. I can’t give you a definitive answer about that. Dean?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Alpha?" Dean asks from where he's now standing after having been told to get up, listening to their volleys without moving his eyes away from the floor. Alpha Castiel might not know anything about pets, but any other person will know the difference between someone who’s well-trained and someone who’s not. And Dean won’t embarrass the Alpha.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you feel unsafe if I leave you alone with Charlie for a few minutes to get a chair? I can tell her not to approach you or you could come with me instead. In fact, seeing how this is going, I might prefer that option."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey!" Charlie interjects vehemently. "I just asked! I'm not planning anything nefarious!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>does not know</span>
  </em>
  <span> you, and frankly you are being extra pushy today and I’d appreciate it if you were not," the Alpha bites back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Am I supposed to apologize for not wanting to see someone kneel silently and starved while I’m having a happy breakfast? Is that what you want? Do you want me to apologize for acknowledging that there’s an extra person in the room? Should I pretend he’s not even here unless you want to fuck hi-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Charlie!” The Alpha’s voice is sharper than Dean’s ever heard it. “You better stop right there or I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>take offense. You know me better than that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, since you own a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet </span>
  </em>
  <span>now and since you haven’t dated a beta in years, you wouldn’t be the first who claims his biological urges overwhelmed...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She peters off when the Alpha starts growling in earnest. “You. Know. Me. Better. Than. That.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way the words are pressed out, it is clear that the Alpha is hanging onto his composure by a thread. It makes Dean's heart rate speed up, but for some reason, it doesn’t make panic clutch at him the way Alpha rage usually does, whether the rage is directed at him or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe he’s turned utterly stupid, putting attention on himself in a situation this tense, but he decides it’s time to follow the Alpha’s earlier command. He moves a few steps closer. "What would you like to drink, uhh, Miss?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shift in the air is immediate as they both turn their attention on him. Dean keeps his eyes low against the pressure of their gazes, and goes another cautious step closer, though that brings him in striking distance of both of them. But right now, they both smell more confused than angry, neither of them having expected him to move or speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, please call me Charlie,” their visitor is the first to recover. But then, she doesn’t have Alpha rage to get under control. Because even though she got sharp with Alpha Castiel, by the way her scent stayed mellow she’s a beta. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods, though he’s as uncomfortable with this stranger asking him to use her name as he is with the Alpha asking the same thing. "Would you like some coffee, Miss Charlie? I can make you one of the fancy ones if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Black is fine for me,” she answers, going for casual though Dean gets the distinct impression that he’s being observed like he’s under a microscope ever since he spoke up and distracted them from their confrontation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. “Coming right up.” Then he turns to the Alpha, going another step closer to him, close enough that the Alpha is in his field of vision. Well, his legs are. He’s wearing ladybug socks today. It’s almost enough to make Dean smile, even though the tension isn’t dissipated. “Do you want another cup of coffee, Alpha? I’d be happy to make you one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It comes out quiet, his voice not sure what the rest of his body is doing even as he presses another half step closer. He’s almost close enough that he can feel the Alpha’s body heat now, definitely close enough that the full brunt of his scent hits him. Also close enough that the Alpha will be able to smell him. It’s not gonna be the most relaxing mixture, Dean’s scent probably a somewhat confusing mixture of fear and bravery, but Dean’s pretty sure that it’ll also still show that he accepts the Alpha. Dean relaxes his body and thinks about the night, about being held by the Alpha and leaning into his touch. About the way his body craved the Alpha’s warmth. It’ll make the sweetness in his scent stronger. He even manages to smile halfway up at the Alpha, because the memory is fond and warm even if the current moment is not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last flamy thorns drop out of the Alpha’s scent. In opposition to their visitor’s scent, the Alpha’s doesn’t still show confusion, either, it goes right to the sweet vanilla tones of gratitude. And yeah, Dean had thought so. The Alpha got caught in the argument, but he never actually wanted to fight their visitor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think it’s no more caffeine for me,” the Alpha sighs, a note of shame entering his scent. “But if you could refill both of our glasses with orange juice? Vitamins are good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Alpha,” Dean nods and allows himself another small smile before moving by the Alpha to get to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pretty sure it’s the Alpha’s fault that their arms brush. That he moved at the last second. But then, Dean’s not sure his body wouldn’t betray him on this as well and get close enough to touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Charlie. You hit a sore point, but I shouldn’t have let my temper flare like that. I’ll go get that other chair now.” The Alpha doesn’t wait for an answer before he turns and stomps off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting,” the beta-girl mumbles to herself. “So very interesting.” She follows Dean to the kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s kind of expected it, the way she was provoking the Alpha about being allowed to talk to him, but he still does a quick check of his possible exits. It doesn’t look good. He’s kind of trapped in the room with her by the kitchen island. Also, Alpha Castiel did not say she couldn’t touch him, so Dean’s not sure he’d even be allowed to try to get away. He guesses defending himself is out of question anyway. It usually is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up then, because he at least wants a threat analysis if he’s stuck here with her - and does a double-take. "You're the detective." The thought comes out aloud before he can think about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The visitor frowns, but then she starts grinning. “Ha! You read his books! I didn’t expect that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. “I only read the beginning of the first one. Alpha Castiel gave it to me yesterday, I didn’t get far yet. But his description of Celeste is very -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me, I know,” she grins and gives him a flourishing bow, all temper gone from her voice and expression. “I get to have amazing adventures as my literary alter ego </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>I get paid for reading about it. It’s a double win.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a moment, but then a piece of information clicks into place. The Alpha had said something about his editor being named Charlie. But that doesn’t make sense. If the Alpha hired her as his editor for the book series, how can she be in the first book already? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, you’re wondering what everyone is wondering, I can see it in the frowny eyebrows! Why, oh why did he base a character on his editor?” Charlie exclaims dramatically. “I tell you, if I had a penny for every time I’ve answered this question, I’d be rich!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean puts the finished coffee on the counter near her, careful not to actually get close enough to touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. Also, the answer is simple: We were friends </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>before he became a successful author. Never got him to actually go LARPing with me, but he took inspiration from how ‘versatile’ I am apparently,” she chuckles. “His word, and he totally didn’t get the dirty connotations.” She stops herself. “Oh wait, is it uncomfortable for you if I talk about him and sexual connotations? I mean, I kinda believed him when he said he didn’t take advantage of you, but still… He’s an Alpha and all and he owns you and you’re a pet and I didn’t even think about that. When making the comment, I mean. He’s just always so clueless. I think it's funny.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean's not really sure what to do with that onslaught of words, but fortunately, he doesn't have to come up with an answer, because the Alpha is coming back at that moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who is clueless?" He asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You," Charlie answers without a hint of guilt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha huffs, but his temper is gone and his voice is fond when he answers, "Whatever it was about, it's probably fair. I am good at writing, but not really good at life."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's no fun to tease you when you just accept it," Charlie pouts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bring your coffee and come eat," the Alpha rolls his eyes, though his scent stays even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, boss," Charlie grins, but it's clear to Dean that the interaction is friendly and tempers aren’t flaring again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean follows the others a step behind, bringing the orange juice, but not particularly sure about where his place is in all of this. The Alpha makes it easy for him, though. He nudges Dean towards the chair the Alpha usually occupies, while the Alpha himself takes the chair he just brought, effectively putting himself between Dean and Charlie. Dean's definitely okay with that, even though his threat analysis of their visitor came up as mostly harmless. Unless she triggers the Alpha’s temper again, that is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlie munches her way through five pieces of toast, keeping the topics simple, as she is talking mostly about her roleplaying group and some computer stuff that in Dean's opinion frankly sounds illegal. Alpha Castiel basically lets her talk, nodding and humming in the right places, but not offering much on his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After she's done, she puts down her knife with a decisive clang. "So. Now. You told me to bring quite specific equipment and unless me poking at you made you change your mind, I'm assuming you want to get past the small talk at some point."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I haven’t changed my mind," the Alpha answers decisively. "If I didn’t appreciate your frankness, I don’t think we’d have stayed friends this long. Also, I really want that thing off of Dean. Do you think you can help with that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Charlie answers without a hint of a doubt. "I know that I can.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Charlie lets the sentence stand for a moment before she continues. “You know that you’ll have to replace the collar, though, right? It’s illegal not to. And while I’m guessing we’re in a grey area here anyway, seeing how I’m not a board-certified handler, that wouldn’t be a grey area, that would be a heavy fine. And a really big problem for Dean in case he got caught without a collar.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Cas, like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>really big problem</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The kind where they won’t deliver him back to you for punishment, but do it themselves.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I get it, Charlie. The collar has to be replaced. As long as it’s by something that can be taken off, I’ll feel better. Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That can be arranged. I mean, technically that could be arranged with this model, too. It's just that I'll refuse to put it back on Dean." She shrugs laconically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It can be reprogrammed?" The Alpha asks curiously. “Then why not use it again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because this is a model that the facilities use themselves and provide their wealthy clientele with. It has perimeter and crowd control features. And I'm not supporting that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean automatically puts his arms around his torso at the mention of that, even though Master Michael and Master Lucifer hadn't much used that specific feature. Too modern, too impersonal. Even if all of their omegas wore that kind of collar. But Dean thinks the only ones who didn’t get punished with personal attention to detail were the slaves at the club. At the manor, this feature basically only got activated when someone ran. And people didn’t try running more than once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's a shock collar, Cas," Charlie says plainly when the Alpha still smells confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowns. "No one bothered to give you the remote? And you didn’t ask, either?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't know one existed."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"See what I mean about clueless?" Charlie turns to Dean. “You and I could both have told him that, and his lawyer probably as well. But he doesn’t even know which questions to ask.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really mind, Miss Charlie,” Dean says softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She chuckles. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t mind not being shocked, either. Anyway,” she turns back to Cas, “do a ten second assessment whether that's a feature you want, Alpha, and if it is we don't need to get started cause then I'm not your girl."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Charlie, please stop assuming that because I inherited Dean, I inherited my brothers’ wish to own him as well," the Alpha says exasperatedly. “As for the collar, I just want something that can be taken off. I understand that it’s illegal outside and that we won't get away without a collar, but -," he shrugs somewhat helplessly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh Cas," Charlie sighs, but she pats his hand. "You're clueless, but you're okay for an Alpha. I’m not trying to rile you, either. I just gotta make sure." She turns to Dean. “Okay, champ, I think the two of us will have to figure the rest of this out, the Alpha’s not gonna be much help with this, because he’s clueless and a little naive and somewhat growly cause he’s annoyed with me. So, care to join me over by the couch where we have a bit more space? Cas can do the dishes in the meantime.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “Alpha?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine,” the Alpha says. “Charlie knows what she’s doing. And I’ll be close by.” The last part is said to Charlie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie snorts. “Dude, I’m your resident nerdy beta-girl. There’s no need to get over-protective. I’m harmless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The statement does what it’s supposed to do, diffusing Castiel’s Alpha instincts, because it makes him snort, too. “That depends very much on your definition of harmless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, okay, fair point,” Charlie agrees lightly. “But I’m definitely harmless in that I don’t have any evil plans for your omega.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That, I’ll believe,” Castiel agrees, though his stance is still tense. “Alright. Get on with it then. I’d very much like to have this piece of technology declaring Dean my brothers’ property thrown into the garbage.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie narrows her eyes at him. “Okay, I kinda just said that thing with the overprotective, but you really </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>protective of him. Interesting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up,” the Alpha grumbles, though it lacks heat and is accompanied by an embarrassed scent that Dean can’t place. There is certainly no reason to be embarrassed about making sure that other people don’t touch your property in any way that you don’t like. Maybe the Alpha is embarrassed that he’s so lenient with Dean? He even allowed Dean to distract him from his anger earlier. That is not normal. Just like the rest of it. The beta keeps repeating how clueless the Alpha is, and really, Dean's thought something similar. Maybe the Alpha just doesn’t know that it’s not normal for a pet to be clothed and to sit at the table with guests so that’s why he wasn’t embarrassed. But now that the beta keeps pointing out how weird the Alpha behaves, he finally understands? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, no orders for Dean follow the embarrassed scent, the Alpha just gets up and starts clearing the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me get my tools, I stashed my bag in the hallway. Oh, and I’m gonna need all the light we can get.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, can you turn on the overhead light? And there’s the reading lamp on the side table, we can bring that forward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time he’s turned on the light and brought the lamp to the big table, Charlie is back. “Uh, okay, I feel like this one time it’ll be best if you kneel, cause that gives me best access to your neck. Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. He minds the kneeling much less than the fact that she’s going to be touching his neck. He shudders. It feels wrong. No one but his master should touch his neck. Or, well, the Alpha who doesn't want to be his master. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least Charlie's a beta. Having an Alpha who he doesn’t belong to touch his neck, having their scent on him, would be so much worse. It would probably make Alpha Castiel react badly, too. Even Master Lucifer, who liked sharing Dean, was always extra harsh when a strange Alpha scent clung to Dean. Like it was his fault that someone else had fucked him. Like he'd wanted it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grimaces. Master Lucifer did not have any pleasant business partners. Many of them seemed to have a penchant for hurting him as much as they could in the confines of what Master Lucifer allowed them to do. Since it is simple, that often meant playing with his airflow, dragging his head back by the collar or pressing their fingers into his windpipe until he almost blacked out. Definitely no good memories of people touching his neck there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As for betas, Dean's never really had them touch him that much, other than a few doctors, so he can’t really say whether it's the same for them or not. Dean hopes not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pillow!” The Alpha calls from the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, it feels like Dean’s getting a little more air. The Alpha may not be in the room, but he’s still looking out for Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean dutifully gets a throw pillow to kneel on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Charlie says, “can you turn like 45 degrees towards the table and away from me? Then I can get the best light while the lock is at the side of your neck. I’m gathering that it’ll feel somewhat better if I work there than if I work near your spine or windpipe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods and does as she asks. He still has to dampen down a spike of anxiety when she grabs a flashlight and leans close to his neck. He closes his eyes and takes deep breaths. As a beta, she won’t be able to tell how much he reeks of distress, but he definitely doesn’t want to accidentally flinch once she starts handling sharp objects near his carotid artery. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m gonna have to touch. I’m sorry, but I’m not seeing well enough like this,” Charlie announces before she carefully twists the collar to look at it from the side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her hands are steady and there are no sudden movements, but the twisting still tightens the collar and Dean’s got to fight against the feeling of not getting enough air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I thought so,” she sighs after inspecting the collar in detail. “Okay, this is a bit of a good news, bad news situation. Good news is, I can crack this, because I can hack my way into anything and also because I’ve worked with this model before. Bad news is, this is an earlier model of this collar, and the circuits aren’t shielded super well in this one, and there’s no way to take out the batteries if you want the lock to actually open. Newer models have upgraded that, but then, that’s mostly because newer models work with higher voltages and they wanted to avoid the more deadly kind of accidents. So in that way, this model is good news again, because even if I make a mistake, it’s gonna suck but there’s no risk of any long-term damage.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you saying, you might give Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>electric shocks</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing this?” The Alpha is suddenly there. He sounds appalled and his scent is bristly again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas, go back to the kitchen, do something else. You’re smelling up the room enough for my poor little beta self to want to get out of your way, and you really don’t want my fingers to be trembling for this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” The Alpha growls. “I’m not letting you hurt Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie lets out an annoyed breath. “Alpha, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked </span>
  </em>
  <span>me to do this and I know how to do it. I’m not here to hurt Dean, I’m here to make sure that he’s not gonna run around with a shock collar for the rest of his life. And I told Dean what can happen because he’s the one who has to brace himself, I didn’t tell it to you so that you can snap at me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, make sure that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> happen!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who do you take me for? Goddammit, Cas, you know my story. So you know better than accusing me of taking joy in hurting an omega.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever that story is, it has an impact, because the Alpha’s bristly scent abruptly gets drenched by a downpour of water. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I do know better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hrmpf,” she grumbles. “Go find something else to do for half an hour. We’ll call you back when we need you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha fidgets, clearly not happy with this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can't help here, Cas. You can only make this harder when you stay. Dean and I have got this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha grumbles, but he gives in. “Call me if </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> happens, understood?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will do, Alpha,” Charlie rolls her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, that goes for you, too. Call me if you need me here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods and because apparently he is getting used to this, he looks up at the Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha is wringing his hands together, his hair dishevelled like he’s spent the past fifteen minutes running his hands through it whenever he wasn’t wringing them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine, Alpha,” Dean says, adding as much emphasis as he can, and is surprised when it actually makes the Alpha unclench his hands and relax his shoulders, like he’d needed the reassurance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll go check some emails.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do that, Cas,” Charlie nods solemnly, though Dean thinks there’s an amused undertone to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha lingers for another few heartbeats, but then he actually leaves the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie shakes her head as soon as he’s gone. “You’ve really only been here for two days?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Miss Charlie,” Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just Charlie, okay? I really utterly do not give a crap about any honorifics. Also, dude, if this is Cas after only two days near you, we’ve got interesting times ahead.” She chuckles again. “Alright, now, work to do. Chances are, if I set anything off, it’ll be a small current, and it’ll be short. This is not one of the nasty models that have a, uh, well, a kill switch. Jesus Christ, people suck.” She takes a deep breath. “I mean, I know that every day, but the thought that someone would rather have someone else </span>
  <em>
    <span>die </span>
  </em>
  <span>than that they ran away or got stolen or whatever… Jesus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s not sure what to say to that other than, “But this isn’t one of those models?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, God no. This is a standard issue shock collar from the center. You can buy them with the omega basically. The only individual modification is that they’ll engrave the owner’s name. Which, by the way, I don't have the equipment to do. You'll have to live with a stenciled name on the replacement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dean nods because he really couldn't give less of a fuck about that, and turns his head back towards the table so that Charlie can get to the lock. He wants this over with.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me know if you can feel a current or if you don’t get enough air or if it gets otherwise too uncomfortable,” Charlie says and chooses some tiny pliers and a very small screwdriver and gets to work. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean cramps his hands into his jeans and concentrates on breathing and staying still and trying not to feel the hands at his neck. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie puts some small metal pieces and a black plastic piece with a hole on the table. The outer cover of the fingerprint sensor, Dean recognizes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I’ve got the circuit open, which is good.” Charlie uses her flashlight again to look in detail. “It gets hairy now, though, so that might be less good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t nod because he doesn’t want to move at all. Charlie puts the flashlight between her teeth and keeps working. Every so often she mutters a curse though Dean doesn’t understand the words thanks to them being muttered around the flashlight, but otherwise nothing happens. She just keeps fiddling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is until, “ngh”, Dean flinches before his muscles lock up at the sudden electric impulse, and then there’s a click and the pain is gone as fast as it came. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha! Got you, you little bastard!” Charlie triumphantly exclaims. She throws the newly opened collar onto the table while Dean’s hand comes up to his neck, feeling the naked skin there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry for that last bit. I kinda had to just punch through it, nothing else would work. Did it hurt a lot?” Charlie winces in sympathy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s still busy feeling his skin, so it takes a moment before he even processes. He shakes his head. “Was way worse during training. Always knocked me completely on my ass, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, if you keep the electricity flowing longer, that’s exactly what it would do. But no more! High five!” She’s quiet for a moment before she says. “Dude, high five!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks up to find her hand held out to him. This beta is apparently as weird as Alpha Castiel, so Dean does what she asks and brings his hand up to meet hers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice,” Charlie says, obviously very satisfied with herself now that she cracked the collar. “Cas!” she hollers. “You can come back! Dean’s safe and sound!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha almost runs through the door half a second later. “Did you get it?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t say you doubted me! Pff!” Charlie answers, trying to sound dismissive, but she holds up the open collar with obvious pride. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank God,” The Alpha sighs with relief. “Do these things burn? I’m kind of thinking about burning everything that belonged to my brothers. Well, everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>inanimate</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he immediately corrects himself and Dean actually cringes more at the correction than the sentence, because yeah, two days ago he’d probably wondered whether he was included in the blanket statement. Today, the thought hadn’t even come up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These things don’t burn very well, I’m afraid,” Charlie shakes her head. “And if you’re okay with it, I’d actually like to take it with me. It’s still useful for - training purposes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charlie,” the Alpha frowns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, oh God no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>for training omegas! For training how to crack these things and get them off of omegas!” Charlie explains. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, in that case, take it, I guess,” the Alpha shrugs. “Just don’t get caught.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie grins. “Oh, you know me, I’m always a step ahead of the law enforcement. So, now. Decision time. I’ve brought several collar models for your convenience. But you gotta decide which one.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She unpacks a handful of collars from her bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, they’ve all got the following in common: They lock in a specific place and once I’ve adjusted them for Dean that’s how they’ll stay. No chain links or other bullshit that can tighten to cut off airflow.” She demonstrates the principle on one of the collars. “Also, none of them is a shock collar. See here how there’s metallic conductors in the leather on the inside of Dean’s old collar? That’s not a thing with the product I peddle.” She turns one of her collars so that they can see. “It’s all soft leather on the inside, and it’s all nicely upholstered, too. It’s as comfy as a collar’s gonna get. No chafing, no abrasions, no rough edges. They do all have a metal cable on the inside, but it’s flexible,” she demonstrates again. “Still has the effect of making it hard to cut the collar off if some asshole tries to steal an omega, but it’s much less rigid than the unforgiving metal on the outside of Dean’s old collar. You got it so far?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods, and Castiel does, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, differences then. Those are mainly the locking mechanisms, and then some small shit. There’s like a minimum thickness to a collar that I can’t do anything about, but everything I’ve brought tries to keep the weight to a minimum. Here, check that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie presses Dean’s old collar and one of the new ones into his hands. The new one is noticeably lighter. It also feels much softer. More like the soft leather of Castiel’s reading-nook armchair than like the soles of boots. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean offers both collars to the Alpha, who also looks them over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, the most important decision is the locking mechanism. I’ve got the modern version with the fingerprint sensor, but I also have versions from the analog age with an old-fashioned lock and key. Those either have a built-in lock or an external one, though I wouldn’t necessarily recommend the latter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” The Alpha asks and puts the two collars back on the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because the external lock is a dangling weight and an injury risk, in my opinion. But you can make it an old-fashioned number lock if you’re prone to losing keys,” Charlie shrugs. “So that’s one advantage.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about the other two? What are the advantages and disadvantages there?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if you use a lock with a key, keys can be stolen or lost. Fingerprints can’t, though as we’ve just seen, the owners of said fingerprints can die, so I’d recommend storing several fingerprints in the system to have a backup. Also, some omegas are severely traumatized by the shock collars, and in those cases you always want to go with an old-fashioned lock, because the fingerprint sensor needs electricity, so there is a battery in those collars. And even if it can’t be used to shock the omega, the feeling of having a current this close to their skin can be creepy as fuck. So really, that’s a matter of preference. Here, have a closer look at both options.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gives one collar each to Dean and Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean gets the collar with the fingerprint lock. It looks friendlier than the model he last wore, with the leather so soft and bendable. It isn’t black, either, but a nice mellow brown. He lets his fingers glide along the length of it before frowning. “There’s no attachment point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah yes!” Charlie nods. “That’s one of the small things I mentioned. My collars come without a D-ring because leashes are stupid and unnecessary. People are not dogs. So in my opinion, you should treat them respectfully and see what happens instead of leashing them," she grumps. Then she turns to Castiel. "But I can put a D-ring on if you want it. I’ve got a lot of hills that I’ll die on, but that’s not one of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please believe me when I say that I’ve never felt the urge to lead anyone around on a leash.” The Alpha hands the collar he’s holding to Dean, who gives him the other one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lock is a bit bulkier on the collar that needs a key, the collar a little heavier because of it, but otherwise, there doesn’t seem to be too much difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you say, Dean?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you choose, Alpha,” Dean shrugs, because he doesn’t really mind either of these. He didn’t even mind his old collar that much. Admittedly, if his masters had been into the whole electric shock thing, that might have been a different story.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you’re the one who’s going to have to wear the collar. So I feel like it should at least be your choice which one.” Castiel holds the collar with the fingerprint sensor back out to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes it and weighs both collars in his hands. It really doesn’t make that much of a difference to him. He’s probably not even going to wear this collar for that long. The auction house very much uses those crowd control features and will go back to their own brand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t have any problem with the battery, though. In the end, everything can be used to hurt an omega, if the Alpha feels like it. It doesn’t matter how innocent something seems in the beginning. So battery or key makes little difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is why he decides purely by weight in the end. “This one,” he holds the collar with the fingerprint sensor out to Castiel. “If you feel like it’s the right choice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel takes the collar from him and looks at it for a moment before he nods and gives it on to Charlie. “This one it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good choice, if you ask me,” she nods. “Alright. So now we need to get some fingerprints saved in it and test that it opens and closes without a hitch, and then I’ll adjust the size so that it’s comfortable and stencil Castiel’s name in.” She takes the screwdriver and opens a tiny cover, under which there seems to be a panel for programming. “This tech is so much better than the old collar, they’re like not even on the same planet. Okay, now, rule of thumb,” she chuckles at her own pun, “use at least three different fingers when programming this thing. Better yet, three of each hand. Don’t wanna get stuck cause you are wearing a bandaid. Okay, let’s see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tinkers for a moment and then she puts the sensor on the table. “I’m gonna need your right hand first, Cas. We’ll do thumb print, pointer and middle finger of each hand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha puts his thumb on the sensor and after a moment the collar beeps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Move it a little bit, then hold it still until it beeps again. We’re gonna do that like ten times for each finger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha does as he's told, moving on to the next finger and then the next. When they’re done, Charlie nods satisfied. “Okay, trial run.” She closes the collar, which locks with an audible snap. “Try to open it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel puts a finger on the sensor and it snaps open again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, use a different finger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They try again and it works as smoothly as the first time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s the basic set-up. Now, as I said, you might wanna think about a back-up fingerprint from someone else…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I heard you and I have thought about it already. I want Dean’s fingerprints for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm.” Charlie looks just as stunned by that statement as Dean feels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the best solution, right? If something happens to me, I can’t guarantee that someone would, for example, call you to open the collar. But Dean’s right there. Also, this way, he can take the collar on and off in the house as he wants.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie grimaces as if she’s bracing herself to give the Alpha bad news. “Cas, that’s… probably not quite legal. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m gonna do it if that’s really your decision, but you’re aware that the collar is as much to keep an omega from running as it is to keep others from stealing them, right? And that they’re not supposed to be able to open them on their own?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha crosses his arms over his chest. “I might be clueless, but I’m not stupid. So yes, I’m aware that my Alpha brothers would not see this as a valid solution.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks up sharply, because he only just now remembers that the Alpha also has an omega brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who ran. Who would have worn a locked collar, too. Who would have had to have help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And if there's one thing that’s for certain it's that that help did not come from Master Michael or Master Lucifer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha presses his lips together and deliberately looks away when he notices Dean’s expression. Dean knows well enough to leave alone, so he drops his gaze. Doesn't help against the weird sensation in his stomach making a return, though. Like his body wants to urge him closer to the Alpha.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean," Charlie gets his attention back. "You know that if I do this and if you’re caught without a collar that they'd take that seriously, right? Making an example out of you seriously,” she warns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean answers. “Yes, I know.” He does. Running is one thing. Running with a chance of succeeding is quite another. Attempts like that have to be quelled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hope</span>
  </em>
  <span> is not encouraged in the life of omegas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then," Charlie nods. "Can't say that I have any personal problems with this. I might be cheering you on actually if I didn't also think it was a wee bit dangerous if discovered. And no offense, Dean, but I don't know you well enough to know that it won't be discovered."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn't take offense. He knows it's a tempting prospect to try to run for most omegas. Thing is, "I've got nowhere to run to, Miss Charlie. So there's no sense in even thinking about it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowns and sends a hard look towards Castiel before whispering to Dean. "But he's giving you reason to want to run?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hastily shakes his head. "No, Miss, no. Alpha Castiel has been very good to me. Very kind." Kinder than Dean deserves, really. If Dean could stay here forever, he doesn't think he'd ever feel like running. Even when the Alpha finally starts enforcing rules and punishments. And even if the Alpha never accepts him as a pet. Dean thinks he could be content in this house, serving this Alpha his food and keeping him company. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But staying is not going to happen because what Dean can offer is not enough. Dean's purpose is one that the Alpha doesn't want, nothing changes that. And the thought of running the night before he goes to the auction house when the Alpha is finally allowed to sell him? That thought is tempting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie is watching him closely so Dean assembles his hands in his lap again and looks down at them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I made you sad," she observes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fine, Miss Charlie."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, you're not," she answers bluntly. "Were you thinking about him?" She nods towards Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. "The auction house," he admits quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," Charlie's voice turns dark. There is a long moment of silence after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn't dare to look up, he doesn't even want to know the look on the Alpha's face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie sighs and shakes her head. Her voice is softer when she says, "Well, we should at least make sure that you're not gonna open the collar accidentally in public. That would lead to a lot of questions no one wants to answer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She puts the collar close enough to Dean that he sees it without looking up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gonna need your fingers for this," Charlie encourages him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Dean keeps his hands in his lap. He listens inside his heart instead. Would he actually do something as stupid as trying to run before he gets shipped off to the auction house, if he can just take off the collar? He’s got no resources, but the Alpha isn’t exactly diligent in keeping Dean out of his stuff. Dean’s got no official driver’s license, but his dad didn’t care about the required age for driving before Dean presented. Dean could find the Alpha’s car keys and steal the ugly Continental and - he’d have to come up with a plan what then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And fuck, Dean hasn’t thought about anything like this in years. The occasional rash decision born out of despair, yes, but something this bold? Premeditated, too? He shudders. Because he knows how this will end. Of course he does. There’s no way he’d get far. And he still can’t say definitely that he wouldn’t try. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closes his eyes for a long moment to steady his breathing. He’s been thinking about this so long that it’s suspicious. So the Alpha’s probably going to go back on his decision, anyway. Which is why Dean asks one more time, “Are you sure about this, Alpha?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be?” The Alpha asks back, more confused than suspicious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip, his stomach in knots. He might be squandering a really big chance here. Or he might be saving himself from certain death. It’s probably the latter. “Alpha?” he asks timidly. “Can I ask you for a favor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” The Alpha answers, though he makes it sound like a question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you please not tell me beforehand when I’m going to the auction house? Can you just - drag me to the car on the day and not let me leave your sight?” Because if Dean doesn’t know, if he expects to wake up and have soft clothes and get breakfast, there will be no temptation to run and he won’t get either himself or the Alpha in trouble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s scent sours with his words, her soft beta smell becoming almost pungent, but Dean doesn’t have much attention to spare for her. He looks up at the Alpha instead, pleading silently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, the Alpha gives a jerky nod, though his face is grim. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s not sure he’s relieved, but he gives the Alpha a tiny smile anyway. Then he holds his hand out to Charlie. “It’s okay then,” he says softly. “I won’t do anything stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie frowns at him, but she takes his hand. She inputs his thumbprint and his pinkie on either hand. “Better use only those. I don’t think you’ll open the collar accidentally like this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Miss Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still just Charlie,” she answers, but she already distractedly fiddles with the sensor until it gives a loud beep. “Okay, that’s it for the fingerprint input. Dean, let’s try your prints as well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She snaps the collar shut and holds it out to Dean. He takes it gingerly. It feels wrong, putting his thumb on the sign that he’s owned and having the confining band spring open. But it springs open just as smoothly for him as it did for the Alpha, not balking at the fact that it’s reacting to omega-fingerprints. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” Charlie nods, “then let’s care for the details. From what I saw your old collar fit you fine? So same length for this one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. When Master Michael or Master Lucifer wanted to choke him, they preferred to do it directly. Unless they took him to the club and kept him on a leash there, they ignored the collar just as much as Dean did. It’s mostly been just a thing that was there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okidok,” Charlie confirms and then works on shortening the new collar until it’s the same length as the old one. After that’s done, she screws a cover over the junction, making sure that the length can’t be changed. “That leaves the name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She takes some silver paint and stencils </span>
  <em>
    <span>C. Novak</span>
  </em>
  <span> onto the side of the collar before looking over her work. “Looks good to me. Well, as good as collars ever look. But I think you could do a lot worse than this.” She holds the collar out to Cas. “To your satisfaction, Alpha?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This will serve very well, Charlie. Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Then my job here is done for the day.” She throws her tools and everything they didn’t use back into the bag. “Cas? A word before I go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha suddenly smells apprehensive, but he says, “Of course,” and puts the collar on the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie looks around one more time, but she’s packed everything. “Okay. Dean, it was very good to meet you. I hope it wasn’t the last time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s got no idea how often the Alpha sees his editor, so he’s got no idea what to answer to that. He chooses to go with, “Thank you for everything, Miss Charlie,” because she went to a lot of trouble for him. And because his new rules already stick, he looks up before he even thinks about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks at him with soft, sad eyes, giving him a commiserating smile, and then claps a hand on his shoulder. He flinches, but she holds on fast. “It’s gonna be okay, Dean. If he doesn’t make sure of it, I will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She squeezes his shoulder and gets up without elaborating any more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas, let’s go. I have things to say.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My loves, I'm posting early because it's Christmas and while I hope that all of you have a happy holiday time, a few of you can probably use a pick-me-up because the situation with family &amp; pandemic is double unfun. I hope this chapter helps a little. &lt;3 </p><p>I wish all of you as happy holidays as possible and a good start into the new year! Next chapter will be posted regularly on Jan 3rd. Take care, take breaks from the festivities as you need to and stay safe and healthy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They leave Dean kneeling in front of the table. He kind of feels like a whirlwind has passed through the house. It takes a few deep breaths and a deliberate return to perfect posture to even halfway center himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way the beta had talked to Alpha Castiel would have been an outrage at his old masters' house. Now, they didn’t have any friends in the first place, any guests always business partners, but those were also always Alphas. And even they deferred to Master Michael and Master Lucifer. Dean’s not sure what they would have done to a beta who deliberately provoked them, but Dean feels like maybe the beta would have woken up at the bottom of a river somewhere, heavy chains wrapped around them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There would definitely not have been talk about </span>
  <em>
    <span>appreciating the frankness</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though Dean guesses that in a way, it makes total sense why the Alpha and Charlie are friends. The Alpha seems to be mostly a recluse, happy to keep his own company. He’d need someone energetic to drag him out of his self-imposed exile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grimaces because it’s impossible not to analyze the difference between himself and Charlie. He’d thought that maybe he could be useful for keeping the Alpha company, but when he looks at Charlie’s bright and assertive attitude and then looks at himself, timid and clingy and jumping at every shadow, there really isn’t anything he has to offer the Alpha in this department, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And isn’t that just like Dean’s luck, the only Alpha he’s ever met who he wouldn’t mind belonging to, who he’d be content serving for the rest of his life, and he’s found absolutely nothing that he can do to entice the Alpha to keep him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t be as frustrating as it feels. Dean’s used to not having a say in what happens in his life. The little choices the Alpha’s given him - discover the house or the internet, drink coffee or tea - are already so much more than he’s used to. He’s always taken it with the stoic certainty that that’s his fate in his life. After an initial frantic attempt to change said fate after his first heat had passed, anyway. They’re used to these outbursts at the training facility, though, and they know how to suppress them quickly and brutally, getting even the most reticent omega ready for auction with efficiency.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His old collar had been slapped onto him while he was still at the auction house. Master Michael got handed the remote, got congratulated on his purchase, and that was that. It was as cold and efficient as the rest of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And thus, the complete opposite of Dean’s stay here so far. He imagines Castiel's hands at his neck, putting the new collar on. Involuntarily, he holds his breath, as his body wants to both shy away and lean into the imaginary touch. When the Alpha puts all of his attention into whatever he is doing, he gets intense. Having that intensity focused on fastening the collar? Dean swallows hard. He’d feel the ownership, he’s sure. But there’s also a swoop in his stomach that tells him that he’d probably end up leaning into the touch. Because that’s what his body seems to be doing whenever he’s close to Alpha Castiel, but also because if the Alpha keeps up the way he treated Dean in the past few days, then his ownership will come with a lot of care. Even though Dean knows better than to admit any wish like this out loud, he’d give a lot to keep that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An illusion. He has to remind himself of that. It’s only a temporary illusion. Hell, he had to ask the Alpha to not give him warning before shipping him off to the auction house so that Dean wouldn’t be tempted to run. That should be indication enough. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or maybe you asked him so that you can let yourself fall into the illusion for every single moment that it lasts</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a traitorous voice inside him says. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe you asked him so that you can forget about it being an illusion, because that’s what you really want.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If it wasn’t so tragic, it’d be funny, how Dean is clinging to this Alpha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Needy and dependent, always searching out their Alpha’s touch and gaze, ready to do anything for a bit of attention - the hallmarks of a pet, according to every brochure. It’s what makes them easy to train, because withholding any of the above will break them fast, no matter how willful they start out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean hates himself a little bit when he notices just how much the description fits these days. That hadn’t always been the case. They have never told him why they classified him as a pet, but Dean’s got a feeling that his wayward attitude didn’t work in his favor. His face might have been pretty enough to make him breeding stock, but he’s too tall and broad-shouldered for perfect omega proportions and back then, he was probably deemed too willful to become a mare. Those are treated with a lighter touch after all. But there’s a whole segment of Alphas who are into omegas taller than themselves who start out defiant. It gives them a special thrill to train someone like that into perfect obedience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And of course his masters have succeeded in the task. Dean’s not kidding himself about that. The crumbs of his old life, of his old personality, that he’d managed to hide away are few and far between. The rest of him strives to be good and please his masters.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, Dean’s always thought it was a strife to avoid punishment. To get fed. To survive. But now he’s got the nagging suspicion that they managed to change him on a level much deeper than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because that strife is no explanation for why his body keeps leaning into Alpha Castiel whenever it gets the chance. Why his mind relaxes into the Alpha’s scent and hold at night. Why he doesn’t bear the thought of the Alpha putting his own symbol of ownership on him with gritted teeth, but why he desperately wants to believe that when the Alpha puts the collar on him, it will mean something to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinks a few times because the thought threatens to push water into his eyes. It’s so stupid, to react this way to an Alpha who’s made it clear more than once that he has no intention of taking Dean on as a pet. That he’s caring for Dean only because some law makes him. Hell, the Alpha doesn’t even feel enough ownership that he’d guard his own status by being the only one able to open the collar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe the Alpha doesn’t even want to put the leather band on him. Maybe he’s just going to give it to Dean to care for. To put on and take off in the house as he pleases. Maybe he wouldn’t even be opposed to Dean running. Whether Dean gets caught or not, it would take the burden of having to take care of Dean off of him. It would mean trouble for the Alpha, too, if Dean gets caught without a collar, but maybe that’s still better than having to care for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean presses his lips together, because the water now wants to spill over his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it wasn’t so good that Master Michael and Master Lucifer died after all. Yes, it’s given Dean a full stomach and a slice of pie and a few nights in a soft bed, but it’s filled his mind with all of these treacherous thoughts and his heart with longing, when really all that it should have done is proven to him that his old masters really were the only ones who he was worth anything to. Now that they’re gone, he’s truly unwanted and alone, no matter how good he tries to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bites his lip hard, makes a new pain counter the one in his chest, but it doesn’t help enough to stop the silent track of tears down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to rein himself in harder, because the Alpha and his friend took so much time dealing with him, and he doesn’t want to appear ungrateful. He doesn’t want to be needy or clingy, either. It’s just that it’s hard, what with the Alpha being so </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Why does he have to be so nice? Dean’s got no idea how to deal with that. If the Alpha behaved normal, if he used Dean for the purpose he has, everything would be easier. The stupid </span>
  <em>
    <span>craving </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the pit of his stomach would be from emptiness then, his mind focused on earning his next meal. It wouldn’t focus on the Alpha and his nice scent and warm gentle hands at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it is… Dean squeezes his eyes shut and tries to block out his mind. Not that it works, because he’s still got a full tummy from breakfast and there’s the soft pillow under his knees and really, the Alpha’s kindness is surrounding him and the tears won’t stop falling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dean? Are you okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He startles and squeezes his eyes together even faster. "'M fine, Alpha," he presses out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha gives an unconvinced huff. His scent is heavy. Whatever Charlie talked about with him, it wasn't a light topic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you look at me, please, Dean?" The Alpha's voice is quiet and soft even with his scent this dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean wants to lean closer to the voice, and also to rub his tears away, to make the evidence of how much of a mess he is go away, but he's still kneeling in good posture and he doesn’t want to break that. He has so very little going for himself. Maybe if he holds on to every bit of knowledge how to be good, that’ll work in his favor. He doesn’t really believe it, but it’s enough that his training wins out. He blinks the tears away as well as he can and tries to force his eyes to focus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he blinks some more because the Alpha isn't bending down like he'd assumed, the Alpha is sitting cross-legged in front of him, so Dean’s gaze doesn’t end up on his knees like he’s expected, but instead, he’s looking directly at the Alpha’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s forehead is creased, his eyes dark with worry, their blue deep like the sky after a storm. Dean’s own green will be broken by red from his tears he knows, but the Alpha still holds his gaze. He doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look away, either. It’s like he’s searching for something in Dean’s eyes. The intensity of it would be frightening, Dean thinks, if it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>Alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it is, he feels his breath calming and his tears dry. The Alpha’s forehead smoothes out a little, no doubt a reaction to Dean calming down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Dean nods. Almost imperceptibly, but it’s enough for the Alpha to understand. Dean’s good now. They can get on with this. The Alpha nods back and releases Dean from his gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's got the collar in his hand. He makes sure Dean notices it and then puts it on the floor between them. Suddenly, his scent is heavy again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've never wanted to collar anyone," the Alpha starts and stops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've told me that, Alpha," Dean whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes,” the Alpha confirms. “I don't want to collar you, either."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. He knows that. He knows it’s no use getting his hopes up. He can’t help that it happens again and again anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s gaze is on the collar on the floor, his scent turning acrid, like the soft brown leather is something despicable. Well, it’s probably not the collar itself. More the fact that Dean comes as a package deal with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean lets his gaze sink back to his hands. It shouldn’t feel like a punch to the gut every time that the Alpha rejects him. He’s done so from the first moment they met. Dean’s had plenty of time to get used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember these websites we talked about and what they say about how pets need strict rules and discipline? How they say that having choices is bad for their mental health because it means that they can’t be sure of their place in the world?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. In a way, he’d thought the same thing before, how much easier it would be if the Alpha behaved more like any other Alpha he’s ever come across. Is that what Charlie talked about with the Alpha? That he needs to be harsher in disciplining Dean? Somehow, it hadn’t seemed like something the beta cared much about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Charlie made me consider a different perspective.” The Alpha grumbles a little like it’s not easy for him to accept it. “In her opinion, the heavy hand is a fabrication of society and not needed, but she’s reminded me that safety is a basic necessity in everyone’s life. And she says that I’m severely lacking in making you feel safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean wants to shake his head, wants to tell the Alpha he’s doing great, because he’s the Alpha and Alphas always do great. But Dean looks at the collar instead. This symbol of ownership and responsibility that the Alpha rejects. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha follows his gaze, apparently, because he picks the collar back up, measures it in his hands. “Yes, this is a part of it. An outward symbol that my stubborn refusal of society does not change our reality.” He runs his free hand over his face. “You are dealing with this situation so much better than I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean snorts a little laugh before he manages to stop himself. But of course the Alpha’s gaze is already on him. “I’m terrified out of my mind half of the time, Alpha,” he says softly and it’s not much of an admission, because the Alpha has a nose and Dean’s sure he can smell it on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And still,” the Alpha answers. “You have no trouble accepting your new situation, even when it frightens you. You just work to make the best of it. I’m afraid that I’m faring much worse. I’m set in my ways and sometimes it makes me blind to the needs of others. I apologize for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean blinks. Alphas, in Dean’s experience, don’t apologize. They don’t care much for the needs of omegas, either. It’s the omega’s job to care for their needs. “You’ve tended to my every need, Alpha. You’ve let me rest and you’ve fed me and you’ve bandaged my feet and you even gave me socks.” Dean’s still not over that. “Even though I’m useless to you. It’s much more than I could ever have expected. I’m grateful, Alpha.” Repeating that seems to be the only thing Dean can do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet, you’ve reverted back to calling me </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alpha </span>
  </em>
  <span>already. So while yes, I’ve tried to make sure to not overlook any physical need you have, it is painfully obvious that I have not managed to give you any sense of safety.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip because the Alpha is right, that was an order given to him and Dean’s not been following it. “I’m sorry, Alpha Castiel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” the Alpha shakes his head, “no, that’s not why I said that. If it feels safer to you to call me Alpha instead of my name, then by all means do it. It’s just that I wish -,” he breaks off, sighs and starts anew, “I am the Alpha who owns you. You’ve had a much easier time accepting that than I have. You expect to be owned. I never expected this. I abhor the rules and the punishments and the way omegas are expected to let Alphas strip away everything they are. And I abhor the thought of - of raping you, Dean. Because, let’s not talk around it, if I accepted you as my pet with everything that entails, that’s what I’d be doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stays silent. He has no idea what to answer to this. The only answer he has is to repeat </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m a pet, this is my purpose,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but somehow he doesn’t think the Alpha will understand. So instead he mumbles, “I don’t mind being touched by you, Alpha Castiel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha groans and hides his face in his hands, clearly believing that Dean is only appeasing him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And okay, that doesn’t work for Dean. “No,” he insists, “I’m not just saying that because a pet’s expected to like it when their Alpha touches them.” He swallows. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “You’re right, I didn’t much like it when Master Michael or Master Lucifer fucked me. They weren’t very - well, it usually made me hurt more than I was already hurting unless, umm, unless heat. It took some of the pain away then. But,” Dean shakes the memories out of his head and comes back to the point, “you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You hold me close at night and I wake up without bruises. I kneel next to you and you don’t slap me away, you scratch my scalp. Your touches are </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I really don’t mind them.” He stops short of pointing out that his body is in fact searching them out, because he’s still not sure what he thinks about that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel’s scent turns into mixed spices, like he’s blushing though he’s still not taking his hands away from his face. His words are muffled. “I’m rather glad about that because I really don’t know how to stop it. My body seems to have a mind of its own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And huh. That sounds suspiciously like Dean’s experience. So Dean cautiously reaches out. He lets the tips of his fingers rest on the Alpha’s knees, the touch featherlight. “That’s okay. As I said, it’s kind of nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha lets his hands sink from his face. He looks at where Dean’s fingers connect them. Then he very slowly wraps his own hand around Dean’s. He squeezes once, but his hold is gentle. “I cannot become your master, Dean. Everything in me screams when I think about that. But I could try - if that is acceptable to you, I could try to become your Alpha? To take on the responsibility of that and live up to what you need? If you want that, that’s what this collar could signify?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean frowns and his confusion must show because the Alpha gives him a pained smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t make sense to you, does it? The difference between having a master and an Alpha?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head just the once, because obviously this is important to Alpha Castiel and he wants to understand, it’s just - that it doesn’t make any sense. An Alpha who is not his master is just an Alpha who doesn’t own him. But obviously, that’s not Alpha Castiel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That feeling comes back, though. The one he’s had the first time Castiel had said </span>
  <em>
    <span>your Alpha</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dean thinks that feeling might have something to do with the difference.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, let me try to explain. As your master, my wishes and needs take precedence to yours and there is nothing for you to do but obey. As your Alpha, your wishes and needs are important to me. I cannot promise you that I can always fulfill them. There are restrictions. But I do not want to be bound by the constraints of the relationship between a master and his pet. I don’t want to have to punish disobedience. I want to hear your voice. To get to know you. I want to make sure you’re safe and happy here. Or, safe and unharmed at least, if happiness is not an option. Does that make sense to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I know.” The Alpha sighs. “There are universal rules in our society and they state that every omega needs a master. But Dean, I - I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I have tried to bring myself to be that and I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So let’s - let’s throw out the rule book. Let’s make it up as we go. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha sounds so goddamn </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopeful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean swallows. He still doesn’t understand completely. And he also knows that he can’t trust any of this. They’re nice words, saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could become your Alpha</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They seem safe. But it doesn’t change that the Alpha can rip the rug out from under him at any moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, the hope in the Alpha’s scent is kind of blinding, and there is no hint of a lie in it. Dean’s met some good liars over the years. Master Lucifer was one of them, but even he didn’t manage to clean his scent this completely of any trace of deception. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean picks up the collar. “This collar is programmed so that I can open it at any time that I want. But it’s not because you don’t care, it’s because you want to become my Alpha instead of my master?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you - </span>
  <em>
    <span>we’re </span>
  </em>
  <span>making up new rules?” Dean asks and breathes through the momentary panic that the pronoun produces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” The Alpha exclaims, his whole scent lighting up like it makes him incredibly happy that Dean gets what he’s saying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head, because this Alpha is the strangest ever, and Dean’s not sure he’ll ever actually understand everything he’s saying. But it doesn’t even matter because there’s the funny feeling in Dean’s stomach again, and it’s like his whole being lights up to match the Alpha’s happy scent. It’s a whole different feeling from anything he’s ever known when dealing with Alphas, and it’s so much better. He holds the collar out to the Alpha. “Will you put this on me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, the Alpha just stares. Then he says, “I will if you’re sure you want me to. You could put it on yourself. Or you could not wear it as long as we’re in the house and no visitors are here. I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is no lie there, either. The Alpha means every word. Dean looks back down at the collar, just for a moment. He’d thought before that a collar doesn’t fit with the clothes that have layers. But that was the old collar. That was his old life. This collar is different. It means something different, that's what the Alpha was just saying, right? Dean looks back up and holds the collar out again. “Thank you for giving me the choice. Will you put this on me? Please - Castiel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first time Dean manages to leave out the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alpha </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it makes Castiel’s scent bloom into a fragrance so sweet that for a heartbeat, Dean’s certain summer just arrived and turned the living room into a meadow in the sunshine, complete with a picnic basket with pie and everything. It makes Dean’s head feel dizzy and his body tingle and he doesn’t notice that he’s swayed forward towards the Alpha until a strong hand at his shoulder catches him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From this close, the scent is so strong and so sweet and so much like </span>
  <em>
    <span>pie</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that all Dean wants to do and all that he does is lean into it. The Alpha sways closer, too, pushing up on his knees and for a few heartbeats, they’re suspended in stasis, breathing each other in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the Alpha asks, "Allow me?" and Dean nods and bends his head forward so that the Alpha can reach easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With careful hands, the Alpha wraps the collar around Dean’s neck. His fingers brush Dean’s skin, making him shiver, though the flowers are still wrapping around them and there’s no fear. There doesn’t need to be, either, because the touch stays so, so soft even as the collar clicks into place. There is no moment of claustrophobia or nausea that comes with it, either. The collar feels as soft as the Alpha’s hands and it doesn’t feel all that confining. Dean can take it off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me test the fit.” The Alpha carefully pushes two fingers under the collar, making sure that it’s loose enough, even though Dean knew beforehand that it would be fine. Charlie was diligent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is it okay?" The Alpha asks though he’s confirmed it for himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. “Can I?” he asks, his hand straying up to touch the leather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” the Alpha nods and sits back on his haunches. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The collar feels warmer to the touch than the old one. It yields easily under Dean’s fingers and when he experimentally moves his head, nothing pinches or constricts him. The weight around his neck is familiar and maybe it’s just because he’s used to it, but it grounds him. He lets his fingers glide over where the Alpha’s name is stenciled in. “I think if you - if you mean what you said and if you’re actually willing to take me on for a while, it can be good,” Dean says quietly, and there’s a little flame of something that suspiciously feels like hope in his chest. “I know you'll be good to me, but I think I could be - good for you, too. If you let me try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. “I want to be good for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” the Alpha nods. “We’ll try to be good for each other then. Is that acceptable?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean nods and even smiles a little. So very much yes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He touches the collar again and it’s still warm and soft and it already feels so much better than the old one. Dean's pretty sure that that's only partially because of the nicer materials and mostly because: belonging to Castiel? That’s a whole new feeling. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy New Year, y'all! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Washing machines have not changed since Dean’s youth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s usually had to do the laundry at a laundromat somewhere, and those machines didn’t have the fancy settings Castiel’s machine has, but the principles are the same. So he nods and says “yes, Castiel," at the appropriate places while the Alpha explains the different programs to him, but really Dean isn’t listening to his words at all, he is bathing in the way the Alpha's scent blossoms every time Dean says his name. It's like a superpower and Dean's getting the slightest bit drunk of the picnic-with-pie-in-the-sun scent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn't help that he's also watching the Alpha working the knobs and dials, wrapping long slender fingers around them. And yeah, these fingers have touched Dean before, just recently actually - Dean searches for the soft leather of his collar and the skin underneath - but Dean hasn't taken the time or liberty to watch them like this yet. Usually, Dean’s interest in an Alpha’s hands is strictly along the lines of how much Alpha strength does his master put behind every hold and hit. Sometimes an additional note about how bony or how cold the fingers are. Practical considerations. Staring at the Alpha’s fingers now? Nothing practical about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As awkward as the Alpha sometimes is, he has obviously done every movement here a thousand times before, his fingers effortlessly finding the right settings and grabbing the washing powder out of the assembly of boxes without ever even needing to look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t want his thoughts to stray, but he can’t help wondering whether, if the Alpha was interested in his body, it would be the same way, the Alpha cataloguing every one of Dean's reactions. So that in the future his fingers could effortlessly find their way. It’s probably the summer sunshine picnic scent that’s making his lungs feel all fizzy and his head feel light that gives him those thoughts, because Dean’s experience is definitely different from light fingers dancing over his ribcage or gently spreading his thighs. But he doesn’t attach any pain to Alpha Castiel's hands, so he’s free to imagine them caressing his sides.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha suddenly sniffs the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And shit. Now that the Alpha has ripped him from his trance, Dean can smell it, too. And feel it, actually. It’s not enough to be truly uncomfortable, but there’s definitely slick where there wasn’t any before he had started daydreaming. “Umm.” By the way his face heats up he’s blushing furiously because what the fuck? Since when does his body react like this to thinking about an Alpha? The moment of unintentional arousal disappears in a cloud of confusion and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s summer scent dampens immediately. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean nods quickly. “I was listening. Cold setting only for the button down shirts.” He thinks that’s what the Alpha said anyway, but he’s not sure the Alpha is listening to him now, because he frowns deeply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then his eyes widen like he’s just had a horrible idea, alarm making its way into his scent. “Dean, how close are you to your heat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes an involuntary step back, though that flush isn’t going to go away any time soon. “I, umm.” He has no idea actually. But admitting that means admitting that the change in his scent is no involuntary biological reaction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh God! I didn’t even think about that yet! We have to make plans! I have no supplies. I don’t even have enough information to know… I wasn’t prepared for this. I need to research -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alpha Castiel!” Dean interrupts because he recognizes a panic spiral when he hears one. “There’s no need. I don’t think it’s very close. I don't -,” He breaks off with a grimace. Knowing the Alpha, this is not going to go over well. So he makes sure to keep his voice soft and calm when he continues, “I don’t have regular cycles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that - are you okay? Do we need to go see a doctor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grimaces and quickly shakes his head. His experiences with doctors are less than stellar. “No, I’m not sick or anything. Just - not enough food. Body doesn’t have enough energy to keep a cycle going.” He gives a helpless shrug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha gapes, and then, as expected, his scent turns smoky and dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Alpha. It really is.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not like heats are all that much fun to begin with. Master Michael had always found them too messy and too animalistic. A sign from God that omegas are unclean and not as evolved as the rest of humankind. So he usually delivered Dean to Master Lucifer at the first sign of Dean’s smell changing. Master Lucifer had no such qualms. He thought heats were opportunities to see how far he could bend Dean while he was half out of his mind with fever and pain. Turns out, Dean bends pretty far before breaking. He shudders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha presses into Dean’s space, worry overlaying the burning thorns in his scent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," Dean apologizes automatically, though his body doesn't feel the need to protect itself and lean out of the Alpha's touch. "You won't have to - I don't think it'll become an issue while I'm here." Dean grimaces and when the Alpha opens his mouth, he quickly adds, "Even if you keep feeding me. It'll take a while, I swear. I won't be a bother."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The addition is too much. Too scared. Too close to begging to keep the food. Too little trust in the Alpha who purses his lips and stalks even closer. Personal space is definitely not a thing anymore. It doesn't make a difference that the Alpha is shorter than Dean, either. He still towers. Dean's heart is beating hard. He stays where he is, frozen in place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean." The voice is quiet, but it's the dangerous kind of quiet that demands all attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, Alpha?" Dean hurries to assure that he's listening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> you tell me and </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> you do will make the food go away. Understood?" It's Castiel’s Alpha voice and it brooks no disagreement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean swallows hard. "Yes, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Good." The Alpha nods grimly. "I want you to remember that. Preferably in every single moment. You will not go hungry here. Or be stashed away so that you're not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bother</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for that matter. That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to happen."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay," Dean hurries to agree because the Alpha has not been like this once. Not even in the beginning. He was irritated then, but there is steel in his voice now that makes Dean's mouth go dry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha harrumphs and then finally he steps back and Dean can breathe again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is when he notices that the Alpha's scent has a punch to it, the cinnamon strong now, fall and winter spices having overtaken the summer, but that there's no acrid anger directed at Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean breathes a few deep breaths and tries to figure out his own body's reaction to this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Confused</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the best he can come up with. The way Dean’s muscles had locked him into place his body had had no issue recognizing the Alpha command. But usually that’s followed up by frantic fear rushing through Dean’s mind and flooding his body. A hectic scramble to appease the Alpha and obey whatever orders were given. Right now though? His body can't decide whether it wants to be frightened and retreat, or whether it is, well, still kind of aroused and wants to sway back into the Alpha's space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grits his teeth against that thought. Is that it? A few weeks without an Alpha to use him and he's not only needy and clingy but also suddenly begging to be fucked? Next thing he's gonna roll over like a literal bitch, just to see whether he can entice the Alpha to take what he doesn’t want. It’s like Dean wants to make this nice Alpha turn on him. Is he really that far gone that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be used and fucked and hurt? Because even if his mind isn’t attaching pain to the Alpha’s fingers right now, that’s what would happen. That’s what always happens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So his body better get with the program and go back to being on guard instead of swaying forward. And his mind better stop with the daydreaming. Maybe then topics like heat can be avoided.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The washing machine is gonna run for a few hours. We can check back when it’s done.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s voice sounds off, like he’s trying hard to regain his normal tone, but like he wants to get out of this small enclosed space to figure out what happened just as much as Dean does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods and clears his throat. “Would it, umm, would it be okay if I read your book for a little while? Unless you have a task you want me to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The normalcy of the question eases some of the tension. The Alpha nods. “Of course that’s okay, Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Dean answers quietly. He needs a little bit of time to calm down, and he’s glad that the Alpha is granting it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Please also get yourself food and drinks from the kitchen if you get hungry or thirsty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will,” Dean promises, though he’s not quite sure that he’d actually manage to get himself to open the fridge without the Alpha in presence. It'd feel way too much like stealing. But then, he had breakfast, he doesn’t think he’s going to get hungry any time soon. Speaking of, "What do you want me to make tonight? If you still want me to cook.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The food you made yesterday was amazing,” the Alpha says, “but I think we should probably go with the rest of the soup today. Just to make sure your stomach gets time to adjust. Breakfast didn’t make it worse, did it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Dean shakes his head. “Breakfast was very good. Thank you for making it for me.” He looks up at the Alpha with the sentence, though he knows his smile is weak. Still, the choice of words seems better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>thank you for feeding me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s got a feeling that that would only upset the Alpha again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I must admit that it is much more enjoyable to make food when I don’t have to eat it alone,” the Alpha answers. “So I should thank you for eating with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both know that it’s bullshit, but it still warms Dean’s heart and deepens his smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” the Alpha nods decisively. “You go read, I go listen to the messages Crowley left on my phone. I fear that I will eventually have to answer his calls.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean's a little less leery about the armchair this time. The Alpha hasn’t complained about Dean’s scent sticking to anything so far. Still, he only runs a careful hand over the blanket. It’s still as soft as he remembers and he’d still like to wrap himself up in it. Maybe it's because there hasn't been much softness in his life in the past few years that he craves it now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes an image appear of the Alpha wrapped around him the other night. And goddammit, Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>remembers </span>
  </em>
  <span>waking up frozen in terror because he didn’t manage to put the puzzle pieces together while half-asleep. He also remembers that he had most definitely thought it was better not to try to move away from the Alpha’s hold because he’d be chased. That should be terrifying. He shouldn’t feel sentimental about it and like he's missing the warmth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Especially since the sheer warmth of this house is overwhelming. The clothes. The socks. The warm food. Warm showers. The blanket to sleep under. The Alpha himself. And it’s not even just physical warmth. The Alpha may have no clue how to take care of someone other than himself, but it’s pretty clear that in his own way he tries hard. Dean’s hand finds his new collar again. He was wrong, it’s softer than the leather of the armchair. It feels softer than he deserves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. Going down this road will lead him nowhere. Better to actually do what he came here to do and get a bit of distance for a short while before he has to deal with the Alpha again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picks the book back up, though he starts in the very beginning where he’d jumped the first few pages the first time around. There was a dedication there that he’d ignored. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>For C.B. - We’ll fly on broken wings. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one’s told him Charlie’s last name but now that he knows she’s the detective, he’s sure it’s her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets a finger glide over the words. Castiel had told him about people saying he had a crack. Broken wings? But what about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Shared history? It hadn’t seemed like there was anything other than friendship between the Alpha and the beta.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a stab in Dean’s chest at the thought that there could be. It's a hurt that makes no sense. If the Alpha wanted someone to settle with, a beta would be the logical choice. Omegas serve their purpose. They are not part of the families that keep them. Charlie may be able to argue with the Alpha, Dean's always gonna be beneath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And okay, this is not helping, either. He better get on with it. He still has to make up for falling asleep while reading last time. Maybe he can try to come up with a few questions or observations about the plot, that he can ask Cas later. He hopes that'll make the Alpha's scent blossom again, because even if it’s just Dean asking the questions and it won’t be intelligent conversation on the same level as Charlie can offer, at least he’ll know that Dean didn't lie. That he is actually into the plot and Cas' writing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cas</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His blood runs cold as alarm bells of </span>
  <em>
    <span>danger danger danger</span>
  </em>
  <span> shriek in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck. Fuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just a thought, he didn't say it out loud. The Alpha has no way of knowing about it unless he fucks up out loud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stupid, so stupid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the right of the Alpha to give whatever names he wants to his pet, the other way around does not work the same. There's gotta be respect. Calling your master by a name his friends call him is not respect. It means you forgot your place. It means you gotta be shown your place again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn't even notice he's dropping to the floor until his knees hit the hardwood. It sends a jolt of pain through him which in turn sends another rush of adrenaline because Castiel wouldn't like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that's - that’s a thought that stops everything else right there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because the Alpha </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>gives him a pillow for his knees. And Dean would say it's just because he had been good back then unlike now, but it's not like Dean's not fucked up plenty in the past few days. And the Alpha still never reacts well to the thought of Dean in pain. Like it genuinely distresses him when Dean gets hurt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It leaves Dean at a loss, but he clambers back to his feet and sits back down in the armchair because he’s pretty certain that’s what the Alpha would tell him to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What even would happen if he called the Alpha by his nickname? Would anything happen at all? He's insisted on Dean using his name already and that at least seems to make him happy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plus, the nickname fits the Alpha. Better than his stiff full name actually. That sounds like all the things the Alpha is supposed to be. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cas</span>
  </em>
  <span> sounds more like all the things the Alpha might want to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean groans and presses his palms into his eyes. This is ridiculous. If he stays here for a month, he might as well go and actually run and get himself killed before he’s being sold on because the way this is going they’re going to have to break him all over again wherever he ends up next. He’s survived that once, but he’s not sure he’ll survive it a second time. Or that he even wants to. There’s nothing to hope for on the other side of that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pets manage to find owners sometimes who treat them well enough and keep them past their prime because of fond memories or whatever. But Dean is already past his prime. His body is getting older. Not getting enough food for so long has created a hunger frame now rather than helping him to fit omega ideals better. He’s got the marks of his former owners whipped and slashed into his body. With every additional year, with every additional punishment, his attractiveness for anyone new is sinking. His chances of not only appeasing a new owner, but appealing to them enough that they will care for him and allow him to live out the second half of his life in a nice house with someone overseeing that he is being taken care of and has appropriate tasks is getting less. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thoughts aren’t happy ones, but the inevitability of it all at least sets him back to normal. There’s no use in worrying, because all the shitty stuff will happen anyway. Which means that he should do what he always tries to do and think of what’s not shitty and enjoy that as long as it lasts. He’s okay right now. He’d even go so far as to say he’s good. That’s worth holding onto. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a decisive breath, he opens the book to the page where he’d gotten sleepy last time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It really wasn’t the book. In fact, the book is quite engaging now that Dean is more rested. He reads until the room begins to darken and the letters start to blur. Admittedly, it’s still the beginning of spring, so it's getting dark early in the day, but Dean looks at how far he got and he’s actually read a pretty good chunk of the book. It makes a swell of pride surge in his chest. Yeah, he's a slow and unpractised reader, but he's following the plot and he even has an idea who the bad guy is. Cas - Alpha Castiel, he corrects himself internally, though the panic doesn’t come back - is pretty good at laying clues. And Dean's slow reading may be coming in handy here. If he read faster, he might overlook some of them. As it is, he thinks he has a pretty good grasp on the story, which - he knows omegas aren't made for bookish knowledge, but it's kind of cool. Sammy would be proud to know that he's voluntarily reading and enjoying it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought sobers him up. His little brother didn't have much reason to be proud of him even before Dean presented. He never hid his feelings on that matter, either. And yeah, Sam at ten was probably already smarter than Dean at 14. He'd never tried to please their dad the same way Dean did, either. Which is why Dean has hope that he presented Alpha. And then hopefully made his way out of dodge before getting into a fight with their dad that was fueled by Alpha rage on both sides. Dean grimaces. That would have turned bloodbath quickly, what with dad packing and Sam at the very least carrying a knife. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sighs. He wishes it were an option. That he could tell Castiel Sam's name and say to call him instead of the auction house. He thinks the Alpha could probably be convinced to do it. But pets don't have families and whatever he and Sammy swore to each other as children, thousands of other children must have sworn the same. The omegas among them now have a trinket box somewhere that they can ask their Alphas to be allowed to have a look at every so often, because there are a few photos of a past life in there. Dean doesn't imagine that they get permission too often. You don't want your property to go all sentimental and slack off, after all. The Alphas among them on the other hand all grew up safe in the knowledge that this is best. That omegas need what is being done to them and that hence, it is exactly what should be happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, Dean can't ask the Alpha to contact Sammy. Even if his little brother grew up Alpha and even if he has money, what would Sam even do with him? There is no meaningful capacity in which Dean can serve him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And hey, isn't that just the topic of the week. He’s never noticed it before, how much better it is to be at least somewhat useful. Even if it is just as the punching bag for someone’s pent up anger. Well, Dean guesses he could be that for his little brother. Sam had been an angry child, and Dean guesses living with their dad without Dean as a buffer won’t have made that any better. Sam already knows first hand that Dean’s good at taking punches. He already was back when it was their dad doing the punching. Dean guesses it proves his father right. Dean always was a little bitch wanting to please, and he’d always taken the attention of a fist over no attention at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still. It's probably the house with all its warmth getting to him again, but Dean kind of doesn't want to be a punching bag for his little brother for the rest of his life. It's really nice not to be hurting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Dean is insufficient company maybe, but he is company, and that's still basically the only thing he's figured out for certain about the Alpha, that he enjoys easy company. He doesn't enjoy being reminded of the realities of their world and of a pet's world especially, but Dean can try not to bring that up. Then maybe they can watch a movie again tonight. Or the dessert show, even if it makes Dean insanely jealous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah. That sounds like a good plan. He carefully puts the book back on the side table, straightens the blanket and goes to find the Alpha. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It turns out that it's not hard to find the Alpha because he’s actually on his way towards the guest room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I was just looking for you! We forgot the laundry, the machine is done and we can put everything in the dryer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a hot flash of panic - was Dean supposed to remember that? - but the Alpha smells frazzled, not upset. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I remember dryers. Do you want me to try to figure it out on my own?" Dean offers and wills his heart to calm down. The Alpha has not hurt him yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, yes. Sure. If you want to." The Alpha nods. “I can help if it’s unclear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean regrets it the moment they're in the utility room. Because the utility room is still small and the Alpha </span>
  <em>
    <span>hovers</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean's thoughts had gotten dark enough in the afternoon that he had kind of repressed his involuntary reaction to the Alpha earlier. But now, he's gotta bend over to transfer the laundry from one machine to the other. While the Alpha is basically looking over his shoulder, close enough that Dean can feel his body heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holy fuck, this house holds challenges that Dean's never even thought were challenges before. He takes a deep breath and wills himself to think about the laundry and nothing else. Because even just thinking about gaining the Alpha’s approval is probably not a good idea right this second, especially not if the Alpha starts smelling like summer and pie and all that is good in the world again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the clothes are the Alpha’s obviously, or well, all of them are really, even though Dean’s worn a few of them. Dean tries to be careful hauling them from machine to machine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We really need to get you your own clothes,” the Alpha remarks, thoughts obviously going in a similar direction as Dean’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure that I keep them clean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just - you should have more choices than a few of my old shirts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is - mostly really unnecessary, even though Dean knows the Alpha means well. “They’re nice enough shirts,” he shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmpf.” The Alpha is unconvinced, apparently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean closes the dryer and presses the power button, making the display blink to life. There are several settings, the one chosen currently is ‘automatic’. Dean points at the ‘start’ button. “Can I press start? Or does the setting need to be changed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes, you can press start. The setting is the right one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods and presses the button and the machine starts whirring. “Anything else I need to watch out for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha shakes his head distractedly. “No, that’s fine. We could go to a store tomorrow maybe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha - Castiel,” Dean grimaces. “You really don’t have to spend money on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense,” the Alpha shakes his head. “You need your own clothes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s said with finality, so Dean doesn’t want to argue. Thing is, he’s not quite sure how up-to-date on omega-specific purchases the Alpha is. “Uhh,” Dean cringes because this will in all likelihood not go over too well, “Have you ever been in one of the stores that cater to pet needs?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Dean's been. Not often, mind, because both of his masters thought the perfect clothes for their pet were no clothes at all. But there were specialty events. Fashion shows of a sort, usually for special interest pet fashion. Not that the clothes were the only thing the attending Alphas got to sample. Strangely enough, it was Master Michael more than Master Lucifer who attended those and brought Dean with him. Though Master Michael's interest was much less in the fashion or even the other omegas available, and much more in the business propositions that could be made at such events. Dean had always been kind of glad about that, because while he had been fitted in an outfit or two, Master Michael couldn’t have cared less about how tight a corset was cinched and he had no love for any of the more - out there choices. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You, uhh, might want to look up the stores specializing in pet clothing before you make a decision on whether that’s someplace you want to go,” Dean says carefully when the Alpha looks confused again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about - the store where I get my clothes?” The Alpha asks, his voice slow and cautious. Like he knows that he’s not up to speed, but is already aware that he won’t like the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever looked up their policy on omegas?” Dean asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha shakes his head slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Have you ever seen any omegas inside? Anyone with a collar? On a leash?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha thinks about it and then shakes his head again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean grimaces. “Hate to tell you, but it’s pretty safe to assume that they won’t allow me in then. Probably not even to accompany you. Much less if I try to touch anything or try on clothes. Sorry, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his credit, all the outward reaction the Alpha shows is that the line of his mouth hardens, though his scent turns acrid enough that Dean’s sure he's thinking about punching someone again. "Well then. Online shopping it is. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the sites specialized in pet clothing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Dean agrees. “We can try that.” He doesn't think repeating that it's unnecessary to get him choices makes any sense. Better to distract the Alpha away from his anger. "Do you want me to warm up the soup now or is it too early?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The distraction works, too, because the Alpha blinks as he mentally changes gear. "Are you hungry?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I could eat," Dean shrugs. "But then, I could always eat." He attaches a smile to it, makes it a slightly helpless joke to lighten the mood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course the Alpha knows that it's not a joke, that Dean will really take any opportunity to eat because even though Castiel told him he’ll always get to eat here, Dean’s body doesn’t quite believe it yet, but the corners of his mouth still lift as he processes that Dean’s trying to joke. And yeah, Dean sees stuff like that now, because obviously years of training don't mean much when it comes to this Alpha. Well, in his defense, the Alpha is really nice to look at, so maybe that’s why he’s getting used to looking at him so fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's go heat the soup then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn't point out that he could probably definitely manage that on his own. Instead, he tries to be helpful and bring out the right pot while the Alpha gets the tupperware container from the fridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They work side by side. It's somewhat less awkward than before, the kitchen is big enough that any pheromones disperse, and as soon as the soup starts warming up it starts smelling like soup, and that activates Dean’s stomach and overrides whatever had led to his reaction to the Alpha before. They still bump into each other every so often and it’s probably because Dean is so hyper-aware after before, but he feels any small brush of their arms or hands like a zing, even when he tries to stop noticing them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean doesn't ask when he takes two bowls and two spoons out of the cupboard this time. The Alpha doesn't comment on it, but he squeezes Dean's elbow in acknowledgement when he takes the bowls from him to fill them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes warmth spread inside him. Because he's done something right and pleased the Alpha. Because it pleases the Alpha that Dean doesn't question that he's gonna get food. Because it pleases the Alpha to make sure Dean's needs are taken care of. It’s one of those. Or all of them. Dean doesn't even know. Whatever it is, it is a lot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Can I ask you a question about your book?" Dean asks when they're both eating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course!" The Alpha perks up. "What do you want to know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You said it was a spoiler, but now that I've met Charlie, I'm assuming Celeste is a beta."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha hums and nods at Dean to keep going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So I wanted to ask - why make it ambiguous? Why not just write it in directly?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha's eyes sparkle. It was a good question then. "That particular reveal only happens in book three and you should have seen the reactions I got!" The Alpha laughs gleefully. "It lost me a few readers of course, but overall it was a net gain."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"People read her as an Alpha until book three?" Dean frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Some of them never even questioned it. They screamed that the reveal came completely out of the blue.” The Alpha shakes his head. “The expectations for this genre are so set, it’s ridiculous. It surprised me that you picked up on the ambiguity this early on, to be honest. Most people don’t."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pride warms Dean's chest more than the soup. Still, he shrugs and deflects the compliment. "Maybe it helps that I don't have much experience with books. I kinda gotta take stuff at face value."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel nods. "That might be true, actually. A play with expectations needs set expectations for full impact, after all."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How did people react when it came out?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh dear.” The Alpha shakes his head again. “The reactions were - </span>
  <em>
    <span>mixed</span>
  </em>
  <span> is the most neutral way to word it, I guess. I think Hannah didn't forward the worst ones, but it was clear that a section of Alphas did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> like the idea of a beta being as badass as Celeste and outsmarting Alphas left and right."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean snorts because he can imagine that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They tried to start a boycott of the books." The Alpha looks like he’s utterly stunned at the thought. "I never in a million years would have thought my books would be important enough for anyone to start a </span>
  <em>
    <span>boycott</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did it work?" Dean asks, feeling a protective growl trying to make its way up his throat. He swallows it back down because what the hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, fortunately it didn’t," the Alpha shakes his head. "There was a lot of drama on social media apparently, but that also made people curious about the books and made the series more widely known. Charlie kept me updated on that, because she manages my social media profiles. Not that it’s part of her job description and Hannah is not happy about it. But online marketing is not Hannah’s main strength, and personally, I have no interest in fighting with people on the internet. Which, it seems to me, most of the interactions there consist of. It's bad enough that book tours come with publishing books."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tours?" Dean asks. The Alpha's books must really be popular. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hannah makes me go. She says that I have to do readings and meet the fans to keep up interest. I told her that I could be </span>
  <em>
    <span>mysterious</span>
  </em>
  <span> if I never showed up, but she said I'm not big enough to get away with that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That makes Dean chuckle. He can see Castiel struggling with giving up his hermit lifestyle and how he might rather stay the mysterious author who never shows his face. The thought makes Dean remember another detail. "So what about your family? Do they know Emmanuel Allen is you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean's pretty sure that if they do, Master Michael and Master Lucifer were among the Alphas that scoffed at the beta reveal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's hard to keep secret what you do for a living, even if you don't want anything to do with the family money. Or maybe especially when you don't want anything to do with it, because then everyone is wondering where your funds are coming from," the Alpha sighs. "Not that I have much family left now. Or that there’s anyone else to take care of the family money. I’m going to have to figure out how much of it is left after my brothers’ reign." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," Dean says because he keeps forgetting that the Alpha's brothers just died and that the Alpha is probably still mourning that, whether he liked them or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't be,” the Alpha shakes his head. “I don’t enjoy having to deal with the repercussions of their business decisions, but otherwise, as harsh as it sounds, I have had very little contact with my family in a very long time. As guilty as it makes me feel, that they’re gone mostly means that there are less people to avoid.” He shudders and takes a deep breath. “What about you? And please don't answer with </span>
  <em>
    <span>pets have no family</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No mourning then, it seems. And Dean should have expected the segue, he guesses. The Alpha always asks, after all. He shrugs. "I don’t have any other answer for you, though." Because even if Dean keeps thinking about his brother as family, the opposite is not true, he's pretty certain of that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your Sire is dead?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mother is dead,” Dean admits. “And my father sold me to the training facility, so…” He shrugs. Dean guesses the moment that money changed hands to sell him into servitude severed any family bond just as effectively as death would have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He expects the Alpha to ask about his family constellation, about the fact that Dean names a mother and a father, but he doesn’t. "I'm sorry," Castiel says instead, and it sounds heartfelt. "It's not easy to be alone in the world."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You seem to prefer it," Dean points out and tries to get the scrutiny off of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mostly," the Alpha admits. "But I have both the resources and the permission to fight for myself and choose my own way. You're not granted the same luxury."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's nothing to say to that really, so Dean looks at his lap again. "It would have been nice," he confesses quietly, "to have someone fight for me since I'm not allowed to do it for myself. 'S not how the world works, though. Comes a point at which you gotta accept that and roll with the punches." Literally, more often than not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, not here," the Alpha says decisively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shrugs again. He knows that the Alpha has both good intentions and a tight grasp on his temper. "'S okay. I’m grateful for it and all. But I also know that I -,” he shrugs like it’s something casual and not a splinter of glass being pushed into his heart. “I’m gonna fuck up enough that you have to punish me eventually. I know that. ‘S okay. I’m gonna try to do better, after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Dean…” The Alpha’s voice is full of compassion and sadness. He reaches out over the table, lays his hand palm up. Dean stares at it for a long moment before hesitantly bringing his own hand close. The Alpha grasps it and squeezes Dean’s hand. “We threw out the rule book, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yeah, of course Dean remembers. But the fact that they’re not pet and master doesn’t mean the Alpha won’t have to correct him. God knows that Dean only learns the hard way most of the time. “‘M just saying, you don’t have to feel guilty about it or anything. I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Castiel shakes his head. “No, I don’t think you do. But that’s okay. You don’t always understand what I mean, and I don’t always understand what’s going through your mind, either. That’s okay. This is all very new to both of us.” He squeezes Dean’s hand again. “Can I ask you a question?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Dean nods, though he looks down at the table, not at the Alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you up for a piece of pie? Or is your stomach still not good? And please tell me if that’s so. I promise you we’re going to buy pie again. You’re not missing out forever if today is still too early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It is - not a question Dean was expecting, to say the least. “I, umm. A small piece maybe?” he hedges, though he feels like the sudden hope in his voice will be hard to miss. “I mean, a little later? The soup was very good, though,” he hurries to assure that he didn't take that for granted either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles, so yeah, Dean’s scent probably did a 180 at the mention of pie. “Alright. Do you want to watch a movie again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods before the Alpha has even finished the question. “Yes, please,” he asks because that’s exactly how he wanted the evening to go. He is possibly a little too enthusiastic about it because the Alpha starts chuckling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, why don’t you go and choose a movie you want to see while I put the dishes away and check on the dryer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stops mid-motion. Because that is - not how things should be. “Alpha…” he sputters, but the Alpha doesn’t help him out. He smiles somewhat mischievously and that’s when Dean notices that it’s a set-up. Dean can only do one of two things: obey and be in charge of tonight’s entertainment while the Alpha does the menial tasks, or argue and - well, argue with the Alpha.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And usually set-ups make his stomach churn because they're designed for him to only have wrong choices, but that's not how this Alpha operates. Dean's 98% sure that the Alpha set this up because he'd welcome either choice Dean makes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head because of the ridiculousness of it all. “I have never even touched that remote, Alpha Castiel,” he points out. “Maybe - I could maybe help you with the dishes and in return, you could show me how to actually find movies on the TV?” he negotiates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds like a good compromise,” the Alpha nods, obviously satisfied with the proceedings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head again, because really, an omega negotiating instead of doing what he’s told and the Alpha is </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it. But then, that’s exactly what Dean was counting on when he did it, so at least he’s finally getting the hang of how this Alpha ticks. And that, in fact, makes him smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Understanding how to navigate the app is not the problem. It really is kind of intuitive, once Castiel has explained the basics to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The problem is that the Alpha then leaves him alone with the selection process to get the laundry from the dryer. But not before he reiterates that Dean is supposed to find something that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>likes. Which - Dean has no idea what he likes. He’s spent almost a decade and a half not having any interests or preferences or personality. Other than the occasional snitches of conversation that he picked up, he doesn’t even know what movies came out in that time or which actors are currently famous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He assumes the Alpha likes murder mysteries, since that is what they watched the other night, and also because it’s the genre the Alpha chose for his career. But if Dean chooses something there, the Alpha will call him out on that immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean clicks through the preset categories. Romance. Comedy. Action. Are there categories that are more appropriate for an omega to like? He’s got no idea. He guesses there must be houses where omegas are allowed to watch TV. Maybe there’s an omega setting somewhere that allows an Alpha to control the content. Educational content about housekeeping only for the omega-staff or something. He’d say that leaves the porn for the pets, but really, pets aren’t supposed to get off without their masters. Often enough not even with them. It’s the master’s pleasure they’re there for after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sighs. There are several categories for series next, but the Alpha had specified </span>
  <em>
    <span>movie</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dean clicks forward until he gets to a category called 'Classic'. He actually recognizes a few titles there because he’s seen them during his childhood. It gives him a queasy feeling in his stomach, but he can’t stop clicking through the section, either. He had forgotten most of these. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the beginning, the first year or two, he had tried to flee to different worlds in his mind while he was lying shivering on the floor at night, naked and cold and hurting. That had stopped, though, after the dark took so much hold of him. After reality started bleeding away. His goal had been to stay in this world then, to not lose the edges of what’s real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you find something?” The Alpha comes back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh,” Dean blinks. “I -” He’s stopped on Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. “Is there anything newer with Harrison Ford in it?” Because he doesn’t think he can take any more memories right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can look.” The Alpha sits down on the couch, but he waves Dean away when Dean offers him the remote. He doesn’t seem to take offense at Dean asking for a specific Alpha actor, either. “Just type ‘Harrison Ford’ in the search bar.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean feels like he’s typing painfully slow, but fortunately the app gives him suggestions and then a list of movies pops up.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, the only one of these I really know is Star Wars,” the Alpha comments. “Charlie is a rather big fan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Dean’s heard of the new Star Wars movies. He’d liked the very old ones when he was a kid, but he kind of had to watch them in secret because his dad didn’t like stories about other worlds and Sam was not supposed to watch the movies because he was too young. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The first one of the new trilogy is The Last Jedi, if I remember correctly. Do you want to watch it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s not actually sure he does. There are still memories attached here that he’d like to avoid, but he’d also asked about Harrison Ford, so he guesses that he’s kind of made his choice. Which is why he nods. “Should I hit play?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes please,” the Alpha smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Dean hits play and puts the remote back on the table as the first notes of the title music play. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looks up at the Alpha. He hadn’t commented this time when Dean got his pillow to kneel. Dean had been relieved about that, but now he’s kind of wondering. It would be awkward sitting next to the Alpha. Two people sitting on a couch together like they’re equals. That doesn’t sound right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only if they were sitting close together on the couch, maybe eventually their whole sides would be leaning into each other. Maybe the Alpha would even put an arm around Dean like he did last night. It’s a lot to hope for, obviously, but the thought makes Dean’s insides feel weird in that fluttery way again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha has noticed the staring now, so Dean quickly lets his eyes sink, though he’s pretty sure he already got caught. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Castiel asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. He bites his lip and then slips out of his perfect form to lean against the Alpha’s leg. It’s very clear that it’s intentional and yeah, maybe that makes him needy and clingy and all that, but Dean also wants. And for the first time in forever, with this Alpha, he sometimes gets what he wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does now, too, because after a moment of hesitation, the Alpha puts a warm hand on the back of Dean’s neck, his thumb softly stroking around and under the collar. Dean smiles a little, because there were a lot of places to choose for the Alpha to touch, but he chooses the one where Charlie had touched Dean before. And that’s possibly not even on purpose, but the Alpha’s scent will still overlay whatever soft beta fragrance lingers. Dean wants it to mean that the Alpha cares about who touches Dean after all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel like it would be beneficial to know the rest of the franchise to understand this,” the Alpha remarks after the first fifteen minutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know it?” Dean asks. He’s honestly kind of surprised, he basically thought any free person had watched Star Wars at some point in time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what Charlie told me. But she focused heavily on her attraction to Rey, the cuteness of BB8 and something called - Stormpilot? To be honest, I don’t always listen when Charlie talks about pop culture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I got that impression,” Dean snorts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Is it that obvious?” The Alpha sounds contrite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kinda?” Dean hedges. “I don’t think she minds, if that’s what you’re asking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re saying she notices as well?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Dean cringes a little and he pets his hand down the Alpha’s leg in a soothing motion. “Pretty sure she’d have said something if she was annoyed by it, though. She doesn’t seem the type to let things slide.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” the Alpha agrees after he thinks about it for a moment. “Still, I should make more of an effort.” He sighs. “It is one of the reasons why she makes such a good character after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That plus her </span>
  <em>
    <span>versatility</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Dean asks with another snort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the stunned silence after that clues him in to just how teasing he’d gotten. He shakes himself, accidentally dislodging Castiel’s hand from his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I don’t know why - Just sorry,” he repeats. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t be,” the Alpha hurries to say. “It’s just that I didn’t expect you to - banter. It took my off guard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh, sorry.” Dean has no idea what else to say. “Won’t happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s hand is back then, squeezing his shoulder before settling back on his neck. “That’s the entirely wrong takeaway. I’m honored whenever you let me see a part of - well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I appreciate it. Even though I can tell you with certainty that I did not mean that word the way Charlie understood it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s answer shuts Dean up. Because that. That. That’s not what that was, right? Letting the Alpha see a part of his personality?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, it might be true. Because Dean remembers hours of bantering with his brother, both of them trying to one-up the other. Wisecracks were their thing, once upon a time, seeing how they had little else in the world. So that’s maybe - possibly - definitely a part of the Dean that he’d lost when his first heat hit. And also maybe one of those nuggets he managed to keep safe, apparently. A part that he hadn’t even been aware of before he’d shared it with an Alpha and said Alpha pointed it out. And that’s just - Dean feels like his head should explode because that’s all just too weird. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sharing with Alphas is not safe. And they definitely don’t want you to show them pieces of a personality you’d forgotten you had. Only, this Alpha isn’t like his brothers. Alpha Castiel is just like Alpha Castiel, hadn’t Dean concluded that already?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is why he clears his throat and hesitantly jokes, “So, are you saying you’re into versatility or not into versatility? I kind of didn’t get that from your answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It makes the Alpha sputter and choke on his spit, which in turn tenses Dean’s muscles, but when the Alpha has enough air again, he just laughs, shakes his head and says, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> shall be a topic for another day. For now, let’s watch a movie we don't completely understand.” He nudges Dean forward towards the TV for good measure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It should make him tense up more, Dean guesses, but instead he lets himself be rocked by the nudge just to end up right back against the Alpha’s leg. The Alpha chuckles softly and then draws him in until Dean’s back hits the couch so that he’s comfortably supported. Dean lets his head lean against the Alpha’s thigh, and it prompts the Alpha to put his hand in Dean’s hair again. It kind of feels just as perfect as the other day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, the Alpha is into </span>
  <em>
    <span>versatility</span>
  </em>
  <span>, huh? Dean wonders what that means. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The smaller piece of pie was the right choice, Dean thinks, when he’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth a few hours later. Because he got </span>
  <em>
    <span>pie </span>
  </em>
  <span>and - he checks in with his stomach - he’s still doing okay. His stomach is grumbling every so often, but no pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is like - no pain anywhere, really. He wiggles his toes in their socks but the cuts on his feet weren’t that deep. They’re well on their way to healing. And other than the short moment of shock when Charlie opened the old collar, no new pain got added today. It’s nice. Really very nice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks in the mirror then, because he hasn’t really looked at the new collar when it’s on him yet. It’s got a softer color than the old one. The leather doesn’t stand out against his skin quite as much, and without the metal plating, it looks more friendly. He hasn’t opened it yet. He will tomorrow, he guesses, because another warm shower in the morning sounds like a thing that’s pretty certain to happen at this point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks from the collar to himself. He’s skinny, he’s always known that. Depending on how the day was going, sometimes he’d welcomed it, too. Taking up less space sounded like a good idea pretty often in his life. He’s kind of taken the gaunt look that comes with it for granted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now when he looks at himself, the skin over his face seems too tight. There are black hollows under his eyes, even though he got a few nights of pretty decent sleep. If he took off his shirt, he knows he could count his ribs, and his hip bones look kind of stabby even under Castiel’s low-cut jeans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to look at himself through the Alpha’s eyes. He doesn’t think the Alpha is looking for perfect posture or perfect omega proportions. Dean’s not sure he’s looking for anything specific really. But that doesn’t change that he sees stuff. Like pale skin and hunched shoulders and Dean's eyes flitting away from him in fear. Most Alphas would approve of that. Dean’s old masters definitely did. But his old masters were the ones who trained him. His reactions were theirs so of course they were fitting for what they wanted from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what Alpha Castiel wants is something different and what he finds in Dean is an omega who is often too terrified to make sense off and too thin and sickly looking not to be worried about. Dean grimaces. He doesn’t like anyone worrying about him. It’s too close to being a burden. But he also doesn’t think the Alpha’s worry will ease until Dean has gained a few pounds and stops losing time quite so often. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. There's nothing much he can do about either of these issues. Other than making sure not to make himself sick again and trying to calm himself down when he's panicking. He didn't do too badly on either of those fronts today. He thinks anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With as deep a breath as the toothpaste allows, Dean decides that there’s nothing to be gained from these thoughts and also that he's dawdled enough and is ready to face the Alpha again. He spits and washes up quickly and makes his way to the bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha is already in bed. He's got a book in hand, but he looks up when Dean comes in. Just to smile at him, apparently, because there’s no order or even random remark following. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean smiles back, if a little shakily. "What are you reading, Alpha Castiel?" He asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would have been an impertinent question at the manor, here, the Alpha holds up the book so that Dean can see the title. "Fantasy novels are my secret weakness."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn't recognize the title, but then he's not sure that there are any titles he would recognize. Master Michael had </span>
  <em>
    <span>opinions </span>
  </em>
  <span>about books that weren’t either religious or nonfiction. "That's magic and dragons and stuff, isn't it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel nods. "The genre has all of that. Also, other species with different abilities and even different genders! And then there’s the exploration of different society structures. It’s a degree of freedom away from what we are bound to."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods because it makes sense to him that the Alpha would enjoy that. He is not the biggest fan of their society after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean has stepped out of his jeans in the meantime and folded them, but his small stack of clothes next to the bed is missing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha apparently notices his confusion because he points towards the dresser. "Top drawer."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean cautiously steps closer and opens the drawer. There are all his clothes, neat stacks of underwear, shirts and sweatpants. Even the socks are there. "I can take stuff out and put clothes in here?" Dean asks to make sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," the Alpha nods. "It's not exactly much, but it's your space." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you," Dean says and puts the jeans in to take out the sweatpants and a short sleeved shirt to sleep in, since he’s pretty sure the Alpha wants him covered. Only then does it occur to him that the Alpha hasn't changed in the same room as Dean even once so far. "Umm, do you mind if I change here? Should I go to the bathroom?" he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha blinks. "Whatever is more comfortable for you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Umm." It's not really a question that Dean has much of a frame of reference for. He's spent a few days in clothes now at the Alpha's insistence, but he's spent years almost exclusively naked before that. It still feels like that should be his normal status. Only, he just stood in front of the mirror for ten minutes trying to analyse how he looks like through the Alpha’s eyes and, "I'm okay changing here, but I'd understand if you didn't want to see my body even for that short period of time." He cringes a little, shame spreading through him after all. He’s lacking in so many ways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, that’s, umm, not a problem,” the Alpha stammers and clears his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s got no idea what to do with that, but he nods and quickly strips out of his long-sleeved shirt and underwear before slipping into the new shirt and the sweatpants. He doesn’t check, but he doesn’t think the Alpha has started reading again. It makes him squirm in an entirely unexpected way, knowing that the Alpha’s eyes are on him, even though he knows that what the Alpha sees is not appealing to him. If someone had told him a month ago, that he would be upset about an Alpha not even deliberating to fuck him, he’d have laughed. As much as Dean ever laughed at the manor, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes himself out of that thought before it can grab a hold and instead carefully folds the long-sleeved shirt and puts it in the drawer before putting the underwear in the laundry basket. Everything looks neat and undisturbed from the Alpha’s usual order, so that’s a good thing. Dean puts his hand back on the drawer for a moment. Because yeah, the surface looks like Dean isn’t even here, but he’s still got a place, it’s just neat and tidy like everything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought makes him smile, though the smile falls when he makes his way over to the bed. He can’t get used to being allowed to be on the bed just like this. But judging from his experiences with the Alpha so far, the Alpha will only get upset if he doesn’t pretend this is normal. So he decides to go ahead and climb under the covers without asking whether the bed is really where he’ll sleep tonight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s judged that right, too, because his action gets him a soft smile and the question, “How does your stomach feel tonight? Is it holding up okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S fine,” Dean answers because it is. “Thank you. Both for the food and for asking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s smile turns even softer when Dean catches his eyes to express his gratitude and then they’re staring at each other again, and really, the Alpha’s eyes are very blue. Dean hasn’t seen any Alpha-red bleed into them yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s got no idea how often omega-gold bleeds into his own eyes, either. Neither of his former masters had specific interest in looking him in the eye for anything, be it normal interactions, punishments or fucks. Dean’s eyes were always turned to the ground or away from them. So he doubts they would have noticed it enough to even tell him, had he been allowed to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re thinking very hard,” the Alpha says, though his smile is still in place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh, sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha shakes his head. “Is it anything I can help with?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to tell me,” the Alpha assures. “Just, if I can help, I will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was, umm, thinking that I’ve only seen your eyes blue so far. And that, umm, I don’t know what makes my eyes bleed gold.” Dean rubs his neck, embarrassed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh.” The Alpha tilts his head, obviously surprised by the topic. “Because Lucifer’s eyes always had a red rim? Did you expect mine to be the same?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hums. “I - wouldn't know about that. But I can see how that might have been the case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alpha Castiel blinks. “You wouldn’t…” He frowns, like the irritation that Dean knows from his first day with the Alpha wants to creep in, but then Castiel kind of deflates as he sinks back into his pillows. “Because you weren’t supposed to look at him. You wouldn’t even see his eyes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel rubs a hand over his face. “Well,” he sighs, “I can tell you that I can channel my Alpha when I need to. But unlike Lucifer, I believe that we’re all rational and evolved beings, who are not and in my opinion should not be controlled by our base instincts. So maybe that’s why my eyes rarely change. As for you,” the Alpha offers him a small smile, “I’ll have to know you a little better and you’ll have to look at me a little more often for me to be able to answer your question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not exactly a reprimand, but it still makes Dean itch. “I’m trying,” he mumbles. He kind of thought he was doing well with it, too. Much better than he originally expected. But of course the fact that Dean thinks he’s doing good doesn’t really mean anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that you do and I’m grateful for it,” Castiel answers earnestly. “It makes it so much easier for me to figure you out. I know that you expect me to be able to do it by scent like everyone else, but I can’t. I’m afraid I’d get a lot of things wrong."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean frowns. "Is that what you think? That other Alphas figure out their omegas by scent?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel tilts his head at him, confused. "Are you saying they don’t? How else would they do it if the omega is not supposed to speak unasked or look up at them?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alpha, they just - don't. It's unimportant what your property thinks or feels as long as it does what it's told," Dean replies, stunned by the way the Alpha assumes everyone cares like he does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel grimaces like the sentence physically hurt him. "Please don't call yourself an </span>
  <em>
    <span>it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Dean."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's more of an order than a request. Dean nods. "Okay. Point stands, though. You're not - defective or anything for not being able to navigate by scent. You're basically the only one who even tries."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha frowns like Dean has just made everything worse. "Are you saying I'm already defective for </span>
  <em>
    <span>caring </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the first place?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that's </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Dean had wanted to say. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> think you’re pretty amazing and not defective at all. But, you know," Dean shrugs and breaks off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what?” The Alpha asks, scent wavering like he’s not sure whether he wants to be irritated or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m just an omega,” Dean says because Castiel’s gonna huff if he says </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “so my opinion isn’t exactly worth much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha huffs anyway. “Your opinion is important to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe two days ago Dean would have seen the huff as threatening. Now, it just makes him feel warm and fond. "Okay then. You're not broken. You're a very good Alpha."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's obvious from the way his scent swivels and his smile is more of a grimace that Castiel doesn't actually believe him, but he doesn't argue. "Thank you, Dean. That is very kind of you to say."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'S just the truth," Dean mumbles and shrugs uncomfortably. He's not sure his old masters would have seen it the same way. Actually, he's pretty sure he knows why they called their brother names. They would have seen Castiel's concern for others as a weakness. It keeps him from taking what he wants whenever he wants it after all. Which… "Castiel?" Dean asks and clears his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes?" The Alpha asks back and Dean's pretty sure that it's only because the Alpha's scent turns to pie again when Dean uses his name that he actually dares to ask his question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Would you enjoy to, umm, hold me close again tonight?" He cringes a little. Maybe it really was all for Dean's benefit. Maybe the Alpha didn't actually like even that platonic touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha blinks like that's definitely not a question he expected. "You, umm, would </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> like that?" He turns the question around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean feels like he should have expected that. The Alpha tries to be kind after all. Still, Dean is inexplicably disappointed. He'd hoped that maybe the Alpha actually liked Dean's warmth at his side. That maybe the contact was something more than Dean being a needy omega. Which, saying yes to the Alpha's question probably will give away just how much that is true. So Dean should say that it's the Alpha's decision. That the Alpha's pleasure or displeasure is all that counts. But he doesn't. Because it doesn't feel true. Because the Alpha doesn't see it as true. So instead, Dean looks down at his hands, wanting to at least hide his expression, and nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is silence for a long moment. Long enough that Dean starts holding his breath because maybe saying what he wanted when he knew it wasn't the Alpha's first choice was too brazen after all. Maybe he should never have asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean flinches when there's a loud clap, but it's only the Alpha closing his book and putting it away. Then there's a click and the room is bathed in darkness. There’s some shuffling and then there’s body heat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this okay?” The Alpha asks and puts a hesitant arm around Dean’s waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, yeah,” Dean nods and in turn cautiously puts his arm around the Alpha’s back. “This okay, too? Or do you want me to touch you as little as possible?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, this is very much okay,” the Alpha assures and actually draws Dean's arm around himself a little tighter. His scent turns from tense to relaxed as he snuggles close and ends up with his head pillowed on Dean’s shoulder. “This is nice. If it's nice for you, too. I don't want to overstep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sticks his nose close to Castiel’s hair, not quite scenting him, because asking permission for that is a question he knows he doesn’t have the guts for, but still inhaling the relaxed Alpha scent. “Yeah” he agrees, “this is nice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” the Alpha mumbles, his eyes already falling closed. "I'm glad I can give you something nice. Want everything to be very nice… Nice is good…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last part is slurred, the Alpha drowsing away. And Dean would say he envies his ability to fall asleep this peacefully while wrapped up in someone else, only Dean feels sleep tugging at him as well, his body convinced that he's completely and utterly safe with this Alpha holding him close. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Dean blinks awake he's curled up in a ball. It's not unusual, curling up is actually one of his favorite sleeping positions. It conserves heat, allows him to give at least some protection to his front, and it even eases the pain in his stomach a bit when he’s hungry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So why does it feel wrong now? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because his stomach doesn’t hurt and there's warmth already, his brain supplies in the slow, foggy way brains supply thoughts when you’re not quite awake yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grabs a fistful of fabric to test his brain’s theory. He's lying on a blanket? Yes, he decides, but also something else. Something warmer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Human warmth. He stills in the middle of his motion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's a rumble above him. "Good morning, Dean."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That finally shocks his brain into functionality enough to get some spatial orientation. He's not lying on a blanket, he's in bed. Under the covers, but he's also curled up with his head in Alpha Castiel's lap and his hand fisted into the Alpha's sleep pants. "Uhh," he says intelligently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha rumbles again and this time it's definitely a laugh. "Take your time. It was a restless night."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The darkness. The dark and the chain. Hard hands yanking him along, then yanking him down.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I had a nightmare." Dean says after the images come back to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," the Alpha confirms, gentle hands petting Dean's back when Dean shivers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish you wouldn't make me do this, pet. You know all I want for you is to be good so that I can reward you. But you give me no choice. So punishment it is. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hands on his back are such a contrast to the rough treatment the images in his mind provide that Dean’s not sure how to react. His first instinct is to roll himself up further. It would be allowed. He’s pretty sure. But his body doesn’t want to comply, still stuck halfway in the dark, where the only choice is to follow - or fall and don’t breathe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Please don't, Master. Please don't. I'll be good now. I can learn without the dark, I can. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah, pet, I wish you could. This hurts me as much as it hurts you. But you have never been a fast learner. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean's fingers come up to his collar because even just being yanked comes with a fight for air and grabbing his own collar doesn’t really alleviate that, but at least it feels like some control, and that's when his fingers stumble because there’s no metal. No attachment point, either. Nothing where a chain can even be fastened. There’s nothing but smooth leather. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you want it off?" The Alpha asks. "You know that you can open the collar anytime, right? I mean that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks, the Alpha’s voice incongruent with the dark. Still, he nods. Always nod when an Alpha asks whether you know something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's a click and then the collar falls away. The Alpha draws it out from under Dean and puts it to the side. "Does this feel better?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks. Oh. The Alpha had asked whether Dean wants the collar off and Dean had nodded. It feels strange. He's so used to the weight and feel of the leather at his throat. Of every breath and every swallow reminding him that he’s owned. He burrows deeper into the Alpha’s thigh, choked whimper giving away his state of mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha keeps petting him. “It’s okay, Dean. You’re safe here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re safe now. Look, there’s light. I will never put you in the dark. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another memory, this one from the night, not from the nightmare. The Alpha had turned on the bedside lamp to chase away the dark. Had left it on, too, until Dean fell back asleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hugs his arms around the Alpha’s waist when he remembers that. It’s insufficient as a thank you, he knows. But he’s got nothing else to give. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha bends down, putting his arms around Dean as well. It’s an awkward hug, the angles all off, but it’s a hug nonetheless. Suddenly, there are tears in Dean’s eyes. He tries to stem them back, but it doesn’t work. Not when the Alpha worms his way into Dean’s defensive posture to gather him up and envelop him completely. Dean hides his face in the crook of Castiel’s neck and sobs. Because the last time he got hugged he was 14 and it was his little brother hugging him, and he misses his little brother like a part of himself that's gone missing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay. You’re okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha keeps rumbling softly and holding Dean close and all it does is make Dean cry more. He fists his hands into the Alpha's shirt. He doesn’t deserve any of this. Everything is too nice, too soft, too good for him. But, oh God, he wants it. He wants to hold onto it with every fiber of his being. So he holds on, fingers cramping into the fabric of the shirt like he never plans to let go. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he can stay here forever, with the Alpha’s arms wrapped around him while he’s softly hushing him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But of course good things can’t stay. They never can. Also, the embarrassment starts creeping in as the tears slowly dry. Dean’s not had a breakdown like this in - he can’t even remember. Yeah, he gets panic attacks. Yeah, he cries out when he gets struck. But he knows better than to let his emotions run away with him like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, all the Alpha does once Dean finally finds the strength to push himself upright is lean over to get a tissue from the nightstand to hand it to Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes it gratefully. He blows his nose and dabs at his eyes, and risks a glance at the Alpha’s shoulder, where he had been crying. And yeah, the shirt is stained dark and wet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m s-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” The Alpha’s hand finds Dean’s knee. “I told you, it’s not necessary. You’re doing nothing wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean huffs. “Being a mess is nothing wrong?” It’s supposed to sound sarcastic, but it comes out small. Like really, that’s what he wants the Alpha to tell him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha shakes his head. "No. Nothing wrong with that. Definitely not after everything you've been through."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean huffs again, because he's not been through anything special. He's just bad at coping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“None of that,” the Alpha chides. “I know that I’m right just by the few things you told me. And I'm sure there are many more that I know nothing about yet. Arguing about it will not make me change my mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That actually makes Dean snort, even though it comes out wet. “Like I’m gonna argue with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could,” the Alpha offers. “I mean, it won’t make me change my mind, but it would not upset me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Omegas don’t argue with Alphas," Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds like that rulebook again. Which we decided not to follow,” the Alpha points out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't wanna argue with you, though," Dean grumbles quietly. It's true, too. Even if he doesn't get punished for it, it will make the Alpha's scent turn stressed and acrid and that alone will make Dean feel like a failure. He doesn't want that. He wants to be good. “Is it okay if I go clean up a little?” he diverts the conversation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” the Alpha nods, used enough to Dean's deflections by now that he takes them with equanimity. “I guess we should get dressed and have breakfast. Because then I have a question for you.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Today, the Alpha allows Dean - who has put his collar firmly back on after his shower - to prepare the eggs, so he makes them sunny side up and puts them on a toast with some bacon. He gives the Alpha a generous portion, but only puts a few small strips of bacon on his own plate. He’s learned his lesson about greasy foods and meats. And also, it’s kind of amazing that he gets to taste fresh bacon at all, so he's happy enough with that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha does the grocery shopping in the meantime, deciding that they should stay with the healthy foods for dinner for now and that they’ll try a salmon taco recipe tonight that “looks very easy”. Dean’s not the biggest fan of anything fish, but it’s not salad and it’s not kale, so it's still a win in his book. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here you go, Alpha.” Dean puts the breakfast plate and his coffee in front of the Alpha before retrieving his own plate and mug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Dean,” the Alpha smiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hope it’s okay.” At least it isn’t burned and Dean’s pretty sure that he can't have fucked up something that needs only a little salt and pepper enough to be inedible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re getting the hang of this very quickly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blushes at the compliment and ducks his head. “‘S not that complicated. Not like the technology stuff.” He gestures vaguely towards the Alpha’s phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just a matter of acclimation,” the Alpha says kindly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you say so,” Dean answers somewhat doubtfully. He’s already learned that the Alpha is always optimistic about Dean's capabilities, but Dean guesses that’s mainly because he’s had little exposure to omegas. He just doesn't know not to expect anything from them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I say so," the Alpha smiles back good-naturedly. "But I wanted to ask you something different."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay?" Dean answers and wonders whether the Alpha wants to quiz him on his knowledge of something or other. Dean's probably not gonna get any quiz questions right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"When were you last outside?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Umm." That's definitely not what Dean was expecting. "When you brought me here?" He makes it a question because the Alpha should know this already so Dean doesn't understand why he's asking. Unless the Alpha thinks - "I didn't sneak outside or anything," Dean adds hastily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I didn't think that you did. No. What about before I brought you here?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Umm. Master Lucifer took me to the club. A few months back I think? It was very cold out. There was snow. It hurt my feet."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because he made you go barefoot." It's not a question and Castiel's scent goes dark and dangerous again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'S not like it was further than the way to the car and back," Dean tries to calm him down. "It was cold, is all. Seriously not enough walking to get frostbite or anything." He shuts up when the explanation only makes Castiel's scent go darker. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a few deliberate deep breaths before the Alpha seems to calm down.  “What about outside-outside? Like, a walk in the garden? A trip to the shopping mall? Anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s pretty sure he’s looking at the Alpha like he’s grown two heads. “Why would they allow that?” he asks, puzzled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because sunlight is good for you?” The Alpha says. “Because even people who have the tendency to shut themselves in like I do still need fresh air and exercise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not like I didn’t get, uhh, exercise?” Dean mumbles though he’s quite sure this is not what the Alpha meant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Predictably, Castiel’s face tightens even more. “I was talking about going out for a walk or a run, not about having to serve my brothers.” There’s a growl attached to the last part that sounds actually kind of frightening. Kind of like the Alpha meant it when he called using a pet for its purpose </span>
  <em>
    <span>rape</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hunches his shoulders, making himself smaller, not sure what to answer to it anymore now than he did then. In the end, he decides to deflect since that usually works. “Do you like running, Alpha Castiel? You gave me that shirt that says 5k run. Is that a thing you like to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a moment, the Alpha visibly swallowing down whatever he had wanted to say, but then he nods. “Yes. I do in fact enjoy running and I usually go for a run in the woods several times a week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can still do that while I’m here,” Dean assures in case the Alpha didn't think that he could. “You can tell me exactly what you want me to do and don’t want me to do while you’re gone. I’ll be good. I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs and the smile he sends Dean is more of a grimace. “I have no doubt about that. You’re always good. But what I wanted to ask is: What would you think about coming out with me instead of staying here? Not for a run, but maybe a walk? It’s supposed to be nice out all day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm.” Dean’s thrown by the suggestion. “We’d just walk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” the Alpha nods. “There’s a small lake that we could go to and we could see whether the bees are already out and about or whether it’s still too early.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s hand finds his collar. No attachment point for a leash. But then, it’s the woods, there won’t be that many people probably. No real reason to keep Dean leashed to make sure he doesn’t get away in a crowd or allows himself to get touched by someone else. Also, he'd probably get to wear the hoodie and he’s already wearing the jeans, so he’s not gonna be freezing even if they are outside for a while. That leaves one more problem. “Can I ask something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it, umm, is it more gravel or concrete or soil that we’re gonna walk on? Like, it sounds nice and all, and my feet are mostly healed up, but if there’s sharp stones, I’m gonna slow you down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha blinks at him, then takes a deep breath and keeps his voice and face carefully neutral when he asks, “Do you know your shoe size? Cause that problem can be alleviated very easily with shoes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean does a double take. “Really?” he asks. “You mean that?” Because even with everything else, Dean somehow didn’t expect that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that mean you’d enjoy going on a walk? Because you sound excited,” the Alpha points out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’d be no other people, right?” Dean worries. “You won’t give me to anyone else? Not even temporarily?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha growls at the suggestion and okay, that is answer enough for Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I’m excited,” he decides. “I mean, there was a window in Master Michael’s bedroom that faced South, so sometimes I got to kneel in the sun, but it’s not the same as being outside, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not the same,” Castiel shakes his head. “Alright, let’s figure out your shoe size.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They clean away the dishes first, but then the Alpha brings a pair of his own shoes for Dean to try. “I’m sorry, they’re a bit beat up. But I think sneakers are better than formal shoes if we want to go on a walk. I mean, if they fit at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean tries them on. The closest he got to wearing shoes in the past years was some designer putting very high heels on him at one of the fashion shows. But Dean’s never learned to actually walk in those, and Master Michael wasn’t one for the frilly accessories anyway. So Dean’s feet got freed again from that particular pain after only a few minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sneakers feel different, though. Still confining, but much more comfortable. The Alpha kneels down in front of him and presses around on the shoe once Dean’s got it on. “Hmm, you have some space in the toes. They’re a size or so too big for you. You’ll need your own. Though I think I have an insole somewhere still? Maybe with that it might work for today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha jumps back up and goes searching in the closet in the hallway while Dean experimentally gets up and walks a few steps. It feels weird. He’s only wearing one shoe, too, so he feels all askew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha!” There’s an exclamation of triumph from the hallway and then the Alpha comes back in. “Here!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waves the insoles and looks so proud that Dean can’t help but smile. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha grins. “I knew they were going to be useful someday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The insoles help, especially when Dean ties the shoes tightly, so that he doesn’t slip. “I think this works.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No sliding? No pressure? You have to tell me if you get blisters. We can take a few bandaids just in case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Alpha,” Dean says with a little emphasis because really the Alpha is worrying too much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel huffs. “And next I know your feet are bleeding again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Dean’s smile fall. “I didn’t know,” he defends himself. “I didn’t know that you would care. I know it now. I’d tell you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha raises his eyebrows. “So you're telling me you’d ask me to stop if something I did was hurting you? Because somehow I doubt that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a twinge in Dean’s stomach even though it's an accurate read. He wouldn't ask. But, “Maybe I wouldn't ask you to stop, but I’d tell you. That you’re hurting me. Cause back then with the feet you didn't notice. So I’d tell you in case it was an accident. I kind of don’t think I’d actually have to ask you to stop after. You’d probably stop on your own.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At least as long as it was actually accidental. But Dean kind of doesn’t want to think about this Alpha turning on him and hurting him after all. That would mess with him more than he wants to admit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would,” the Alpha confirms. “Please know that, Dean. I was irritated at my brothers, but I never wanted to hurt you on that first day. I’m very sorry that I did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs, a little uncomfortable with the apology. “‘S not necessary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shakes his head. “No, I was thoughtless and self-centered. And that’s not okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a lot on your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I should still have taken better care of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Dean presses into the Alpha’s personal space. “You never wanted to care for anyone. But here I am, all rested and fed and like, wearing shoes and socks. I think you’re doing great.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha doesn’t look like he really believes it - something that seems to happen a lot when Dean praises him - but he gives Dean a smile. “I’m learning. Or at least I hope I'm learning. It's all I have to offer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Seen from my perspective, that's quite a lot. You know that, right?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm learning to understand that, too," the Alpha nods, though by his scent he’s unhappy about it. "I wish the world was a better place."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't we all," Dean nods, though he guesses the world was just fine for Master Michael and Master Lucifer. "Did you want to go for a walk right now, Alpha, or do you have work to do first?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Give me 15 minutes to check my emails and if nothing important came in, we can go."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Being outside is fucking weird. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They go out through the garden, which is small but tidy. It's still early in the year so maybe the lack of personality or furniture in the garden is because of that. Or maybe the Alpha is not a garden person. It seems somewhat incongruent with his love for animals and nature, though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean tries to stay about a leash-length behind the Alpha and it works on the narrow garden path, but as soon as they hit the dirt road that leads to the forest, the Alpha waits for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stops automatically and they're at an impasse until Dean understands and hesitantly catches up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles at him and starts walking again, obviously expecting Dean to stay at his side. “There’s not much to see right now, what with the fields just coming out of winter, but in the dusk sometimes there are deer. And once spring moves along a little more, there are rabbits everywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” Dean says, though really after the bee socks and the speech about rural cat populations, Dean shouldn’t be surprised that the Alpha is up-to-date on whatever wildlife there is even if his garden is a bit boring. “You really like animals, don’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shrugs, either the cool air or slight embarrassment tingeing his ears red. “They are all God’s creatures. And so much less complicated than our own species.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hums in agreement, even though he knows little about the animal kingdom. “So do you think we’re gonna see many animals today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that many probably, because it’s the middle of the day, and also because it’s still cold so spring activity hasn’t really started yet. But…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lets the Alpha talk, Castiel’s excitement at getting to talk about a favorite subject obvious and easy to accommodate, even though Dean’s concentration is diverted by the fact that he’s walking around outside, fully clothed, with shoes that are slightly too big, but are still sturdy sneakers, and no leash in sight.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels even more weird than in the house, because it's like - the outside world. Other people could show up and they wouldn't even know Dean's a pet. Maybe they'd think he's a house helper type omega. Maybe a companion? Dean's heard that those were a thing once. Trusted by their masters to help with everything from caring for their health to reading them books when their eyesight failed. Dean guesses technology has mostly eliminated the need to keep omegas for this kind of help. It sounds nice, though. Sounds like a position in which it would be okay for the omega to grow older, too. Not too frail of course, still gotta be useful. But the usefulness of a pet or a mare runs out much earlier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They've reached the forest then and Dean's gotta stop for a moment to look up. "Trees are just as tall as I remember," he notes with some satisfaction. "You know how they say everything you remember from childhood will seem smaller? Not trees."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha looks at him with compassion, but Dean stops him before he can say anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's all good, Castiel. I'm here now, right? So that counts." He shrugs and puts his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. "Didn't really get to stroll around in the forest as a kid, either. So actually, kinda all new. Which is cool, right?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops his rambling, but it seems to have done what Dean wanted it to do, because the Alpha's frown has smoothed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We should do things like this more often then. New experiences. What else is there that you haven't done?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uhhh," Dean says. "That's probably lots of things and probably lots where they'd throw us out if I asked you about taking me there." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Try me. I'll make it work." It sounds like a threat to society as much as like a promise to Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel!" An out-of-breath voice stops them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An overweight Alpha is jogging up to them. Castiel groans before he draws himself up to his full height and puts a fake smile on his face. Dean takes a step back, coming to stand a leash-length away instead of beside the Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fancy meeting you here and with a - mare?" The Alpha huffs and puffs, but his curiosity is obviously piqued. "I’ve heard that fresh air is good for fertility, but really having a mare run around the neighborhood without a leash, Castiel? And I didn’t even know you were interested in having children. Does this mean you’ll be adding more members to your household?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zachariah.” Castiel's voice sounds like he has a toothache and he takes a step to the side, firmly putting himself between Dean and where the sour-looking and sour-smelling older Alpha is trying to get a closer look. “How do you like my new garden? Is it now </span>
  <em>
    <span>clean </span>
  </em>
  <span>enough for the homeowners' association? Do you already have to find something new to worry about like the size of my household?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, always with the funny jokes, haha!” The bald Alpha answers with a fake laugh. “Of course we’ll all be happy to see you finally settle down and give up that hermit lifestyle of yours in favor of being fruitful and multiplying. It is what God intended.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounds like the beginning of a sermon, but Castiel is quick to interrupt it. “Of course,” he says without any discernible emotions. “God’s will and all. How pleasant. Well, as long as my garden is in order, with the grass short and no way to provide sustenance to the bees, then the homeowners' association has nothing to worry about and we’ll move on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you. Just, make sure you let us know if anyone else moves into your house. And make sure you keep track of that omega of yours so that the neighborhood watch will not have to pick him up when he wanders around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will do no such thing,” the Alpha growls. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>My omega </span>
  </em>
  <span>is not your concern. If I ever find you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>near </span>
  </em>
  <span>him…” Even Dean takes a step back at the sudden potency in Castiel's scent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haha,” Zachariah laughs nervously. “Already protective of those unborn pups, huh? It’s good to see you develop some Alpha instincts.” He reaches like he wants to clap Castiel on the shoulder, but then thinks better of it. “Come to our next homeowners' association meeting. Every second Thursday, as you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will not, as </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> very well know. Good day.” And with that, Castiel grabs Dean by the shoulder and steers him around Zachariah, careful that he’s always in between them. Castiel hastens along and only stops when they’re around the next bend, Zachariah disappeared between the trees. “I apologize.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For what?” Dean asks, genuinely puzzled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For Zachariah and his dismissiveness and - for the whole world,” the Alpha grumbles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean chuckles. “The whole world, huh? That’s a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, don’t you think it needs apologizing for?” Castiel demands to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks at the grumpy Alpha - scowling but somehow still adorable with his hair sticking in all directions -, and he wiggles his socked feet in his sneakers and he smells the new growth of the spring forest and he shakes his head. “Not today. Today is good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The answer softens the Alpha’s scent. He still harrumphs once more, but then he says, “You’re right. I shouldn’t let one asshole ruin my mood. But he is an asshole. I had a lovely wilderness garden that brought in so many bees and bumblebees and birds, and he made me cut it down because it wasn’t fitting the </span>
  <em>
    <span>image </span>
  </em>
  <span>they want to portray with our street. Like people don't immediately have the suspicion that there are awful things going on behind the closed doors of all houses with holier-than-thou gardens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s this tug and pull in Dean’s stomach again that urges him closer to the grumpy Alpha instead of telling him to stay quiet and still and out of the way. Dean gives in to it, too, stepping into Castiel's space to urge him to start walking again, physically trying to move them forward. "Holier-than-thou, huh? Plus that fruitful and multiply thing. Religious folks?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha groans. "Worse than Michael in some ways." But he starts moving. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean keeps step with him and for a while there, they walk silently. The Alpha seems deep in thought, so Dean doesn’t want to disturb him. Instead, he tries to clear his mind of the encounter. It makes him itchy that the other Alpha saw him as a mare, not a companion. It shouldn’t surprise him of course, mares are much more common. But now Dean’s got visions of himself with his tummy swelling, and he’s not sure what to make of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can I ask you a personal question, Dean?" Castiel breaks the quiet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can ask any question," Dean shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you ever want children?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh." Dean answers. So Castiel’s thoughts had gone in the same direction as Dean’s. "I'm not prime genetic material, Alpha, and I'm kinda old now. You could find someone better than me if you actually want to be, you know, fruitful." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean isn't even surprised anymore when no matter his own dubious feelings about pregnancy, it's not a pleasant thought that the Alpha might find a mare and bring it home. Dean's pretty sure he'd have trouble arranging himself with that. And when did he even start thinking about Alpha Castiel's house as </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no, I wasn't trying to imply - I was asking about you. Did you ever want pups?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. "'S not my decision. If they had thought I was good for breeding, they’d have classified me differently."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But if it had been your decision?" The Alpha insists and Dean really doesn't know why it's so important to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lays a hand over his stomach, imagines a pup growing inside him. The thought still gives him mixed feelings, but really, it isn’t that part that’s important. It’s what comes after. "No," Dean shakes his head. "I wouldn't choose to bring a pup into this world. I mean, if I did this willingly, then that implies that I’d be around, right? When they present? And if they'd turn out omega, I’d have to - no,” Dean fervently shakes his head. “I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t handle seeing them sold. I’d - no. I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel nods like the answer confirms a suspicion he's had. "No need to apologize. I was curious because - to be quite honest I was curious because I feel much the same."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You do?" Dean asks, surprise overlaying the horror at the thought of having a pup ripped away from him to be sold to the facility. Dean knows that not all Alphas are hurrying to make sure their bloodline continues - Master Michael and Master Lucifer definitely thought there would be enough time for that later - but he's kind of assumed that Alphas who have the resources usually just sire enough pups that it doesn't matter if one of them turns out omega. If one is an omega, it’s profit at least, even if it's not legacy, right? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," the Alpha confirms. "As soon as, well, as soon as my brothers and I one after the other presented and I started to understand how our society works I just - I don't want to be a part of that and I don't want to raise any children to be a part of that, either. No matter their secondary gender."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Not even if the pups turned out Alpha?" Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel nods. "I don't think I can adequately explain this, but - I have this foolish hope that I could shield an omega pup from society. That I could provide a safe home for them, at least for as long as I live. Maybe find a place in Europe in ten, twenty years, when the human rights movement has gained even more traction. But with an Alpha? I wouldn't want them to turn out like me and I wouldn't want them to turn out like my brothers, either. And I don’t think there is an in-between."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You turned out pretty okay, though. In my opinion anyway."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles weakly. "I've been very alone for a very long time, Dean. And yes, I have Hannah and Charlie, but..." He shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And now me," Dean offers quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And now you," Castiel echoes and Dean can't decipher whether it's good or bad. He hopes it’s good. Or at least better than it had been when the Alpha first learned of Dean’s existence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walk on after that, sunken back into contemplative silence for the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hopes the silence doesn't mean anything bad, either. He hopes a lot these days. And wishes. Like, he’s not even talking about big things like his whole future, but he wishes for more movie nights and for the Alpha to put his hand on Dean’s back all gently like he does at night and for another slice of pie. And he has real hope that these things will actually happen. He doesn't entirely trust either the hope or the wishing. They come with an entirely new fear like there's an abyss waiting for him a few feet ahead that will send him straight down into the pitchblack the moment he lets down his guard and trusts that all the new things that are good in his life are for real. The thought opens a mirroring pit in his stomach that has no place next to the fuzzy tingly feeling that Dean gets when he looks at Castiel, but the two stubbornly co-exist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you still good? With the shoes and everything?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh? Yeah.” Dean hadn’t even been thinking about that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No blisters?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think so.” Dean’s so used to tuning out pain that he has a hard time distinguishing smaller irritations like that. “Did you want to turn back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quite the opposite. I wanted to see whether you’re up for a little detour from the path to find the lake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be cool,” Dean nods. He doesn’t even remember when he was last at a lake. Sometime on the road, when he was 10 or 12 maybe?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s through here.” The Alpha follows a small track between the trees that leads away from the dirt road. “I rarely take this route, because it’s not good for running. But I like the lake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes his hands out of the pocket of his hoodie, both for added balance and because the trees are actually close enough to touch here. He feels self-conscious, he’s not a pup exploring the world for the first time after all, but he’s walking behind the Alpha and Castiel won’t notice. So Dean lets his fingers glide along the different trees. The bark is smooth on some of them and rough on others. The first leaves are peaking out on some bushes. Dean’s very careful when he touches the young green, not wanting to break off any sprout. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t say that he was ever overly interested in nature before, but now he’s almost giddy. It’s such a different input from his usual narrow indoors world. The sky is high above the trees and the spring plants are growing and Dean’s kind of forgotten that nature actually existed beyond being a view from the window. “This is awesome.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He only notices that he’s said that out loud when the Alpha turns halfway around to him. “Yeah?” Castiel asks and Dean is a little embarrassed because this is probably normal and boring for the Alpha, but he’s enjoying this too much not to answer with a, “Thank you for taking me on this walk”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s smile turns both softer and sadder at the same time. “Anytime, Dean. Just say it when you feel cooped up and we’ll go do something outside. Oh, and you can of course go to the garden anytime you want. I want you to have as much freedom as I can give you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The statement makes Dean stumble. Like, literally stumble over a root that’s sticking out from the ground. The Alpha catches him, though they both only narrowly avoid scraping along a tree. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, sorry,” Dean blushes from embarrassment. He should at least be able to walk on his own two feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No worries,” the Alpha dismisses the apology. “We’re almost there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He keeps Dean’s hand in his and pulls him along the narrow path. Maybe he thinks that makes it less likely for Dean to fall over his feet again. Which should probably embarrass Dean some more, but he decides resolutely not to think about it and instead grips Castiel’s hand fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the meadow where the bees always show up first!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The path widens into a meadow that is all light greens and tiny flowers right now. There are bushes whose blossoms are budding around the edges of it, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And look there! The lake!” The Alpha turns them around and there, at the edge of the meadow, a glimpse of water is visible. “If we go around, we’ll have a better view.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool,” Dean says and means it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see any bees yet, though.” The Alpha looks disappointed and stays still to listen for a moment. There are birds chirping and the wind in the trees is rustling the branches and the new foliage, but there isn’t any telltale hum of larger insects. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, Alpha. Guess we gotta come back in a week or two?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, Castiel perks up. “Yes! We shall do that! If it stays this warm, there will be more flowers next week and the bees will find plenty of food. That makes me happy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sounds and smells happy, too. Dean swallows hard, because the Alpha is still holding his hand, so he’s close, and now they’re actually on a meadow, even though it’s not summer yet, but the Alpha is adding that fragrance. Plus, he still smells like pie to Dean, and all Dean wants to do is to wrap himself up in that scent, and also to scent the Alpha’s neck, where the apple pie smell will be strongest, and then maybe he’d like to sample the Alpha’s skin, to lick across it and find out whether the Alpha tastes as nice as he smells and what the fuck is wrong with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rips himself away from staring at the Alpha’s neck, but it’s too late, because the Alpha is already staring back and his nose is twitching so he’s definitely smelling what Dean is smelling, which is his own arousal. Goddammit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean's blushing furiously now and he lets go of the Alpha’s hand and takes a few steps back just to be on the safe side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, there is no need to be alarmed.” The Alpha holds his hands up in a disarming gesture and also takes a few steps backwards. “Even if you’re close to your heat, you are safe. I promise. I’ve been around omegas in heat before, when I was still living with my family. I can control my instincts, I swear. I won’t touch you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean kind of wants to laugh hysterically because that’s so not his problem here. He doesn’t of course because he still has a shred of control over himself, but he hides his face in his hands at least, because the Alpha’s intense stare is not helping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean?" The Alpha immediately sounds worried. "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And really, Dean should ask the Alpha to just move on. To forget about this and walk around the lake and Dean can make sure to keep enough distance to not smell the Alpha and -, oh fuck it. Dean moves before his moment of courage leaves him, pressing back into the Alpha's space. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha sounds slightly panicked. “If you’re going into heat we should…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s too much confusion and worry in the Alpha’s scent now, Dean has to search for the vanilla and cinnamon and he just found the courage to do that, so something has to be done. “I’m not going into heat, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cas</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His stomach tumbles all over itself because fuck, this might be the step too far. The Alpha freezes and blinks, like he’s unsure what he’s just heard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going into heat,” Dean repeats softer. “Just really like your scent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He regrets admitting it the next moment because the Alpha’s scent stays utterly confused, not bringing back the nice warm feeling of summer and home. Dean sighs, his momentum and bravery gone and disappointment leaden in his stomach. He mentally kicks himself and takes a deliberate step back. It was too much to hope for that the Alpha would reciprocate his feelings in any way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Alpha. I was out of line. Do you still want to show me the lake or do you feel like I don’t deserve to see it anymore and we should better go back?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grimaces because he’d definitely get a few extra lashes from Master Michael for trying to divert the attention from a transgression and for proposing minimal punishments like turning around, but this is Alpha Castiel. Alpha Castiel is different. So Dean breathes through the moment. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. It helps settle him on the other thing as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha stares at Dean for another long moment like he’s trying to puzzle out what even happened, before he finally nods and turns around to lead the way to the lake. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>On a canon note: Happy birthday, Dean Winchester! I'm very much ignoring the last few episodes, so in my mind, you're having a lovely birthday party right now, Cas saved from the Empty and Eileen back at Sam's side. Have all the burgers and pie for your birthday that you deserve!</p>
<p>And on another note: If any of you speaks French and would maybe be willing to help me with a thing, please let me know how I can contact you in the comments, so that I can ask you something? I'd be grateful!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The lake is nice. Not big or imposing, but with its smooth surface and the trees overhanging it, it feels like a secluded hiding place, far away from humanity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean crouches to let his hand dangle in the water. It’s a shock of cold, but maybe that’s exactly what he needs right now so he lets his fingers drift for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I go swimming here in summer,” Castiel provides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looks up at where the Alpha has come up behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only when no one else is here, of course. Sometimes the neighborhood pups play out here. But they enjoy the water slides at the funpark more than this tiny lake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember those times,” Dean nods. Before everything, he would have enjoyed company and noise more than the quiet and stillness of the lake as well. Now, the thought of being in a crowd only brings memories of the club. Heaven &amp; Hell was always only hell for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course you’re going up on the rack today, pet. Everyone loves your voice best when you show us how prettily you can scream. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shudders. He wonders whether that Alpha they’d met earlier would have been part of the crowd at the club, cheering Master Lucifer on and hoping to be invited to join some day. Master Lucifer had a few favorites that he let work on Dean. There was only one that Dean actually begged Master Lucifer to keep away from him, though. Alpha Alastair. That one, Dean was sure would actually kill him one day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?” There’s a hand on his shoulder. “You’re shaking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean pulls his hand out of the water, though it’s not the cold of the lake that makes him shiver. “Did you ever - did you ever visit their club?” he asks the Alpha, voice shaky with the memories, though he manages not to duck out of the Alpha’s touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once. Back when they first opened it. I never went back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. He can’t remember Castiel among the crowd of Alphas, either. Not that any of the faces really stand out. Dean was either looking down at the ground like a good omega or too occupied with dealing with whatever was being done to him to notice anyone beyond the Alphas who got to touch him. And Castiel had never been one of those. Dean would remember. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha crouches down next to him. “Dean?” His hand lingers on Dean’s elbow now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Club's the only place they took me to more or less regularly," Dean elaborates unwillingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I assume it was not a good experience?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. "Don't like dealing with strangers. No way to know what will set them off." Especially with the kind of Alphas that Master Lucifer surrounded himself with. Dean guesses there must be other types. Not many who are kind like Castiel maybe, but some who are less cruel and more compassionate than what Dean experienced. There have to be, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So at the club you had to anticipate every move like you did when I brought you here?" Castiel asks and takes Dean's hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean lets himself be pulled up and follows the Alpha to a wooden bench a little further along the lake shore. He doesn't protest when the Alpha draws both of them down to sit. Since the Alpha keeps holding his hand, it's easiest to just go along. Also, the ground is muddy and Dean doesn't want to get the jeans dirty by kneeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still answers the Alpha’s question, though. "Not much you can do to anticipate when they play with you at the club. Unless it's just a quick favor to their business partners or something. But for anything more involved, they usually secure you pretty tightly first."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Secure you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tie you up, string you up, whatever. Until you basically can't move. Not much to do other than just hold on until it's over." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha growls lowly under his breath, though he directs the anger out over the water, not at Dean. Dean's heart rate still picks up a notch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Alpha. I know you don't like to hear about stuff like that." Though the Alpha had asked, Dean wouldn’t have talked about it otherwise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You had to live it so I'll manage to hear about it," the Alpha answers through gritted teeth. "I know that I have to know what happened so that I can understand and help. It's just that," he breaks off and growls again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't have to," Dean shakes his head. "I can deal on my own. Really, Alpha. I don't want to be a burden for you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a burden! Dean, you - you coming into my life poses challenges, yes, but you are anything but a burden."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods dubiously. It's a kinder way to word it, but really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>challenges</span>
  </em>
  <span> still means Dean's a pain in the ass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can make sure it never gets to open its doors again,” the Alpha says, growl still at the edge of his voice. “The club I mean. I'm not sure I can actually do anything meaningful for the omegas in its property, though I will ask Crowley about it. But at the very least I can make sure that Heaven &amp; Hell stays closed for business."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean gives the Alpha a weak smile because it’s a nice gesture, but, “‘S okay. The space isn’t really useful for anything else. And the omegas…” Dean shrugs. “‘S rare enough getting sold to someone who cares in the first place. When you were owned by someone else before, you kinda know it’s not gonna happen anymore. And they were property of a club. Every potential buyer knows how many hands they’ve gone through. They know nothing better is waiting for them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent goes dark again, the anger diminishing in favor of something more brooding. “They have no chance at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean feels like he’s somehow personally disappointing the Alpha by saying this, but he shakes his head. “Not that I can see. But it’s okay, Alpha. ‘S not your fault. It’s just how the world works.” He shrugs a little helplessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent is still tight and dark, but he pulls himself back together, the moment of despair replaced by something more determined. “I’m going to have to call Crowley when we get home. He’s holding the club like all other assets and I’ve told him to tell the handlers to treat the omegas well, but after everything I’ve learned from you in the past few days, I fear that I have not been specific enough. It’s Crowley’s job to look at the bottom line of all of my endeavours, and now I have to assume that where I saw it as implicit to give food and medical care, that might not have been understood without spelling it out. So I’ll correct that. And then, once that is done, we’ll see about the future. I don’t know what to do yet, but we’ll do </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He nods decisively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s very kind of you,” Dean mumbles because he has to admit that he hasn’t spared much thought for the other omegas, preoccupied with his own uncertain future as he was. But it’s nice to know that they’ll get a few weeks of rest and if Dean knows Castiel at all, their handlers will now get specific instructions to feed them three times a day with nutritious meals instead of whatever scraps were given before. “You should check, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Castiel frowns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm,” Dean swallows because </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>was a pretty harsh word there. “If you’re gonna spend money on feeding them, then, umm, it might be a good idea to check. Whether the Alphas in charge actually spend the money for that purpose.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grimaces because accusing Alphas of wrong-doing is also not a thing he should be doing. But Castiel seems like a person who might just trust that people do what they’re supposed to because it's what he would do, and Dean’s met a few of the handlers at the club and if they can get away with shit, they will. And they definitely won’t give a fuck about starving some omegas in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make sure,” Castiel promises and squeezes Dean's hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the memories of the club taking up most of his emotional brainspace, Dean had almost forgotten that the Alpha had pulled him down </span>
  <em>
    <span>right next to himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but now Dean’s awareness of Castiel’s presence increases about 100%. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He expects at least a moment of panic, an urge to slip to his knees, to cower away. But there’s nothing, not even with the memories of the rack still lingering. The heat and blood-soaked scent of the club hold no connection to the cold clear day or to the hand wrapped around Dean’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean leans into the Alpha’s side a little, just enough to get a hint of warmth, and instead of making him anxious, it calms him down a little more. It’s like the Alpha’s touch and scent has the ability to pull him back into the present. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It shouldn’t work. The only thing that should work for that is pain. Not too much pain, either, there’s a point at which Dean’s mind decides to check out again. But a slap to the face. A kick that makes him tumble over. His knees hurting when he’s kneeling on hard wood. That gets his attention when he’s drifting. He’s relied on that a lot in the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel grounds him in reality with a hand to his shoulder or fingers wrapped around his own. It doesn’t always work, but the fact that it works at all is a miracle, really. Dean’s got no better description for it other than that fluttery sensation in his stomach, that shows up again right on cue. So he holds on to the hand Castiel provides because it feels good and it feels real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit quietly, prompting the birds to come forward and play in the branches around the lake. They chase each other and sing tunes of spring, and Dean watches them for a while before turning his head to watch the Alpha watch the birds. There’s a tiny smile curving his mouth, a fondness in his expression that is much more relaxed than anything Dean’s seen from him so far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He suddenly has the urge to make that change. To become someone that Castiel can let his guard down with. That he can feel happy and relaxed with. Dean’s not even sure whether it’s a result of his omega instinct to nurture and be good, or whether it’s genuinely just that it feels like someone as considerate and kind as Cas should get to be happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha notices Dean staring at him and turns his head towards him. Dean fights the instinct to drop his eyes, instead giving Castiel a shy smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles back, the smile wider than the one he had for the birds, but also more cautious. Cataloguing Dean’s reactions, Dean is sure. It’s a strange thought, that maybe the Alpha is trying to puzzle him out as much as he tries to puzzle out the Alpha. Of course the Alpha has already said that he wants Dean to help him to make this work, but still. It’s very anchored in Dean’s brain that there isn’t anything to puzzle out about him. That the Alpha should be shaping him into whatever he wants instead of listening and observing and trying to figure out who Dean is beyond his training. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like banter,” Dean blurts out. “I didn’t remember that, but the other night when we watched the movie, it was kind of fun to just like, joke a little, and then you said that it made you happy to see a part of me and I thought about it and you were right, it is actually a part of me.” He clears his throat because that was more of a ramble than he had planned. “So yeah, I like banter. And I, umm,” he turns more hesitant for this part, “I also like it when I get to lean into you because you’re nice and you’re warm and you smell good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s eyes widen a little. “I - I really smell good to you?” he asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods. He had told the Alpha that before, but this seems to be the first time the Alpha has heard him. “Yeah. Thought you might wanna know. Cause you said you wanted to know stuff like that.” He scratches his neck, already embarrassed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Castiel nods and bites his lip. “Can I ask you something, though?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course,” Dean nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha nods, too, but he still takes a moment, like he has a hard time finding the right words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Dean probes gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just - I’m starting to understand that there was no one nice in your life for a very long time and now I’m wondering - when you say that I smell good or that you like my touch, is it possible that it’s just because...” The Alpha breaks off. “Never mind. It’s a stupid question and I don’t think you’d even be able to answer it. So, I’m glad that my scent is not repulsive to you. And for the record, I like being close to you, too. I’m just very worried, that - that I might accidentally hurt you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that you don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want to </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurt me, though. Which is, really cool, actually. Thank you for that, Alpha.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That makes Castiel chuckle one of his sad laughs. “See, and that is why I can’t trust your reactions on this. Because as long as I’m not outright injuring you, I think you’d still convince yourself that whatever happens is good, whether you want it to happen or not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s possible that Castiel isn’t even all that wrong about that, only, “I wanted to ask you to let me scent you before. When we were standing in the meadow.” He clears his throat. “So yeah, make of that what you will.” Because that cannot be explained by just submissively going with the flow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel tilts his head, staring at Dean with all of the intensity he can turn on at will. “You wanted to ask me to let you scent me?” He repeats like he’s stunned by the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s mouth is suddenly dry, but he nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha blinks. “That’s something you’d - want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the way his face feels heated, Dean’s flushing tomato-red, but he nods again. “It’s nice for omegas, too,” he mumbles. “When someone’s scent feels good. And when it’s, you know, mutual and voluntary and all that.” And not just an Alpha forcing your head to the side by ripping at your hair. Not that Dean has much experience with anything other than that last option. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha blinks again. “I didn’t think - it’s been -” He suddenly looks nervous. “The last person who scented me was - umm, that was my friend Meg and we were still in highschool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Dean asks with a frown. “In highschool? No one since?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel shakes his head, obviously embarrassed now. “No, never since highschool. I’m a bit of a recluse as you know, and while there’ve been, umm, they weren’t really into … and as for me, I … Umm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean frowns some more. “Can I ask you a question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” the Alpha nods, though he visibly braces himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When have you last touched someone? Before me? Like, any touch other than a business handshake or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm,” the Alpha blushes. “Charlie hugs me sometimes. Whenever ‘I look like I need it’.” He actually does finger quotes with his free hand. “But other than that, I…  No. It’s been a very long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that is so far from Dean’s experience that he doesn’t quite know how to compute. “Do you miss it? Or is it something you just don’t like? Cause, you know, I know you wanna be nice to me and all, but if you’d rather not do this -,” Dean squeezes Castiel’s hand to make his point, “- that’s okay. Omegas are known to be clingy and needy and I’m no exception to that, but it’s not like you have to touch me or let me touch you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean!” The Alpha frowns. “Please don’t repeat what we’ve concluded is societal propaganda. Omegas are people, right? And people generally crave positive touch, no matter their gender.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the question I asked, Alpha,” Dean says, his own smile small and sad already, because he knows from himself that deflection is never a good sign. Even if people </span>
  <em>
    <span>generally </span>
  </em>
  <span>crave positive touch, he’s less than sure that the Alpha does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I - Dean, it’s been a long time since I last even thought about any of this. Before, umm. Before </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he finishes quietly and a little guiltily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that good or bad?” Dean asks. He doesn’t want his heart to be in his throat, but it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I don’t know. I was good the way things were. And now...,” Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’m scared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Dean asks, genuinely confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I - because I don’t think there’s a way back to where I was before. To </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was before. And because I don’t know the road ahead. I’ve been set in my ways for so long and now -,” Castiel shakes his head again. “See, that’s what I mean when I say that you deserve an Alpha who knows what they’re doing. Who is not just anxiously fumbling along.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want any other Alpha.” It comes out quiet but defiant. Dean knows it won’t make a difference, his fate never his own. But it’s true.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve had bad luck, catching my brothers’ eye. But not every Alpha out there is like them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>aren’t,” Dean repeats, because that’s just stating the facts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But there might be someone much better out there for you! You can’t know!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s so much self-deprecation in the Alpha’s tone, it makes Dean’s heart hurt. Like the Alpha really can’t believe that Dean likes him. That Dean doesn’t just cling because the Alpha is the first person to feed him regularly. And well, that is true of course, but also, Dean’s never reacted to an Alpha the way he has to Cas. And yeah of course that has to do with Cas being nice, but the way Dean’s body relaxes around the Alpha? The way it’s drawn to him? Charlie was nice to him, too, but his body did nothing of the kind. In fact, if he could have avoided her touching him, he would have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, Dean knows one way to tell the Alpha all of this. Something that Dean should have put together the first time he noticed, actually, but that had taken a while to sink in.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alpha? Remember when we shopped for the burger ingredients?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Castiel answers insecurely, obviously having no idea where this is going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember my reaction when I saw the pies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” the Alpha says, his expression morphing into a smile like he remembers the moment fondly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. You smell like apple pie to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” The Alpha stares at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When you’re happy anyway. Then you smell like apple pie. So no, I don’t think there’s a better Alpha out there for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, they just stare at each other. Then the Alpha nods. “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Dean asks. “Just like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha huffs a little laugh, “I’ve told myself not to underestimate your love for apple pie already, didn’t I?” He turns beet-red. “Not that I’m saying that you love -,” he clears his throat. “Anyway, I cannot argue with apple pie.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean kinda thinks that that is very definitely true and that he also very much appreciates that the Alpha recognizes that, but... “It doesn’t mean you gotta - I mean, nothing I say means you gotta do anything anyway, but - I know you never planned on keeping me. So you don’t gotta, you know, change your life plans for me or anything. ‘S gonna be okay.” In all likelihood, it’s not, but there’s no use in making the Alpha feel guilty about this, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that’s what I’m trying to say,” Castiel answers and the way he’s running his hand through his hair makes it stick up in even wilder tufts. “Dean, my ‘life plans’ have already changed. You’ve changed me. There is no way back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dean would say that that’s a bad thing, probably, only the Alpha is looking wild, but he’s also smiling and he’s looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopeful </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Dean’s stomach tumbles all over it itself because suddenly there are a million butterflies inside him and they are all hopeful, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas?” Dean asks again, buoyed forward by the fluttering inside him. “Would you permit me to scent you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’ smile breaks out wide. He nods and lays his head to the side, then pulls on Dean’s hand - the one that he’s still holding -, and Dean kind of just tips forward with surprise, catching himself with a hand to Cas’ thigh, and then his nose is right in the crook of Castiel’s neck. Cas’ pulse is fluttering wildly, and his scent is not all apple pie right now, even though there’s the cinnamon and vanilla, too, but there’s also something wild and swirly, like the Alpha’s both scared and excited. Dean soaks that scent in, too, taking as deep a breath as he can, letting the essence of Castiel fill his lungs. It makes him dizzy, the butterflies fluttering wildly in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans in even closer, his nose almost touching the Alpha’s skin, wanting to block out every other smell. The Alpha shudders in response and Dean is like 90% sure that it is the good kind of shudder, but it’s only 90% because the Alpha’s scent also swirls even more wildly and Dean doesn’t know the Alpha well enough to interpret that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he pushes himself away, even though he has to fight his body to make it move because it protests that this was really much too short, especially since it’s unclear whether there’s ever going to be another opportunity for this. But none of that matters if Castiel hates this, so Dean convinces his body to move out of Cas’ space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He immediately lays his own head to the side, though. There’s the collar in the way obviously, and it’ll smell like leather and dampen down Dean’s scent, but still. Alphas as a rule like taking much more than giving, and the fact that Castiel has not let anyone scent him since highschool does not mean that he doesn’t scent others. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?” Castiel’s other hand finds its way around Dean’s hand, too. “Please sit back up. I have to - there’s something I didn’t tell you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, it feels like falling through empty air. Of course. Of course the Alpha doesn’t want this. He’s only been doing this for Dean. Tears want to crop up in the corners of Dean’s eyes, but he blinks them away, though he can’t help how heavy the disappointment sits in his gut, the butterflies crushed to the ground. “It’s okay,” Dean says, his voice tight and foreign in his own ears. “Thank you for letting me scent you. You don’t have to reciprocate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, stop. It’s not that I don’t want to - I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> reciprocate. I - I’m broken. Or that part of me is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that doesn’t make sense. “You’re saying - you can’t scent?” Dean’s eyes widen in shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel smiles bitterly and shakes his head. “Not the same way you can, anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean racks his brain going through their interactions over the days. One, or well, two of them stick out especially. “But you - when I -,” he feels his face heating up. “You asked me about heat, so you definitely smelled when I - umm.” He breaks off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I - yes. I can smell slick. I can smell most things, actually. But the pheromone receptor part in my brain got damaged when I was a pup and ever since,” Castiel shakes his head. “I get a whiff of it, sometimes. When an emotion is very strong. Anger and fear mainly. Everything that’s acidic seems easier. I know that you smell like lemon when you’re scared. Everything else is faint. I’m sorry, Dean.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Dean tries to adjust his view of Castiel to this new information. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve learned to cope. To read body language more closely than other people do. To find response in expressions and gestures. I get by well enough that most days I don’t notice and I'm gathering other people can't really tell, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said it helps you when I look up because you can’t navigate by scent,” Dean remembers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel nods. “That was very much the truth. I am sorry, Dean. I wish I could tell you that you smell like morning grass after the rain to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the heavy topic, Dean snorts. “That’s your favorite smell?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s up there with the smell of the air right after a thunderstorm,” the Alpha smiles. “Though that has always been how I imagine Charlie to smell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a beta. She doesn’t smell like much to me, to be honest. But she definitely feels like a whirlwind, so I can see how the scent would fit her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha grimaces and shrugs, like he’s embarrassed that he forgot that beta pheromones don’t smell as much. Dean guesses the Alpha hasn’t exactly had great experiences with telling people about this. He’s stopped touching Dean, too, wringing his hands together in his lap. Like he expects Dean to reject him for this. And that can’t stand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Castiel?” Dean asks. “Can I ask you another question?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” The Alpha answers hesitantly, again bracing himself for impact. Like Dean would want to hurt the Alpha any more than the Alpha wants to hurt him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to kiss me instead?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Castiel shakes his head like he thinks he's heard wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, if scenting me does nothing for you, would kissing me be better? It's what betas do instead of scenting, after all." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to make it sound casual, but really the thought messes with Dean's head. Because betas among each other are equals. There is no submission involved in kissing the way betas do it. Everyone gives and takes. It makes that fluttery feeling spread from Dean’s stomach throughout his whole body, taking on a much more heady quality. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha stares at him, eyes wide. There’s still no ring of Alpha red, but by the way spicy cinnamon fights against the dark swirls in his scent, the Alpha wants. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Working from that - maybe Dean’s got it all wrong. Maybe the Alpha wasn’t reacting before not because he didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but because Dean never managed to spell things out. And without scent-clues, the Alpha didn’t know that Dean wanted, too. Maybe he thought Dean just believed he had to because it’s a pet’s purpose. But Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Alpha doesn’t want a pet. Dean’s never tried to perform any of the more pet-specific tasks for this Alpha. All he’s tried is to be a good omega. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this? Showing and telling the Alpha what he wants? Not part of good omega training anywhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to kiss me, Cas?” Dean repeats, looking straight in the Alpha’s eyes and trying to put all of the things that are too complicated to say into his expression. The Alpha’s pupils are blown wide and the intensity of it makes Dean shudder. Oh yeah, he wants to touch this Alpha and for this Alpha to touch him. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span>, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Alpha’s expression turns to wonder. “Dean! Your eyes,” he whispers in awe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My eyes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’ve turned to gold,” Castiel breathes, and then his hand comes up to Dean’s face, carefully, ever so carefully cupping his cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean leans into the touch and Cas leans forward, and Dean’s heart flutters as sugar and apple overwhelm everything else in the Alpha’s scent, golden-crusted apple pie to mirror Dean’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas’ breath hitches when his lips touch Dean’s, like breathing is not working for him anymore, and Dean kind of gets it even while he also wants to breathe deeper to soak in all of Cas’ scent. His own hand finds Cas’ silly trench coat, pulling him closer, encouraging him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure whether it works or not, because Castiel still doesn’t seem to remember air, and that’s not the best way to kiss. So Dean breaks them apart if only for about an inch of space and just so he can whisper, “Breathe, Cas,” before closing the space between them again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Castiel isn’t doing it, Dean starts moving, pressing his lips closer, wanting to feel where Cas’ lips are soft and where they are chapped. He lets his tongue sneak out the tiniest bit, wanting to get a taste of Castiel, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel surprises him by letting his lips part. The tiniest gasp slips past them and Dean swallows it up. It makes something bright burn between his ribs and he gently licks into Cas' mouth. It gets him a moan and a whimper and Dean fears he'll be drunk on power by the range of noises he can coax out of the Alpha just by the slide of their mouths against each other. He opens his own mouth a little wider, invites the Alpha to explore, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Dean expects the Alpha to up the ante, to harden the kiss and lay the claim that Dean's been expecting since the beginning, he doesn't. He's almost shy, searching his way into Dean's mouth a little clumsily. It's endearing, really. If this is how betas do this, Dean really, really gets the appeal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of his former masters ever kissed like this. Not that they had much interest in kissing at all. They used his mouth for other purposes much more regularly. But Alastair had a penchant for kissing. Mostly after he had already cut Dean up and lapped at the wounds so that Dean could taste his own blood in the kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dean? Did I hurt you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looks at Castiel without understanding. The Alpha isn't kissing him anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can smell the lemony scent of fear, remember?" The Alpha says. "Though I think I'd have noticed even without being able to smell it. You weren't there with me anymore."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean nods shakily because he hadn't even noticed, but yeah, he had got stuck in his head again. "I'm sorry," he apologizes. "'S not you. I liked what you did. A lot. 'S just - my head is not right sometimes. Gets stuck in the past." He grimaces right after the admission because it's never good to admit that you're defective. Especially not when you want an Alpha to like you.  "Did </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> like it, though?" Dean asks quickly. He bites his lip and is actually nervous about the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castiel catches him with one of his intense stares like he's trying to puzzle out all of Dean's secrets. Dean lays his hands palm up, opens his body language as much as he can. If the Alpha didn't like it, it's gonna be a disappointment, but Dean's still open to hear about it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When we were in the moment together, it was wonderful," the Alpha admits. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are wonderful.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean huffs, but the Alpha looks so earnest that Dean doesn’t have it in him to point out that it was Dean and his inability to stay in the present that ruined the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for making it easy for me.” The Alpha clears his throat, and whispers. “I know that I’m inadequate in this as well. I have very little experience."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sounds ashamed. Like he should have devoured Dean or something, when Dean’s really happy that the Alpha is taking this slow and not hurting him. And yeah, there are plenty of stereotypes about the virility of Alphas and plenty of people who think that unless they are ruthless in taking what they want, they’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> Alphas, but Castiel’s not subscribing to those usually. His words from the other day are still ringing in Dean’s ears: ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I abhor the thought of raping you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.’ If that’s always been the Alpha’s opinion, then maybe that - the fact that he’s kind and doesn’t want to just take is the reason why he’s clumsy now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I ask you another question?” Dean asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” the Alpha nods, though he still looks miserable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever done this with an omega? Or, you know, laid with one?” Dean asks carefully, making sure to keep his voice gentle.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha averts his eyes. “When I still lived at home, my family had - there were several pets. My mother - my Sire - believed that it was the safest way to let off steam for young Alphas to have several of them in easy reach. My brothers made use of them frequently. But I -,” Castiel shakes his head. “Maybe it was because I’m the youngest. Gabriel presented before me. I couldn’t stop seeing him when I looked at them. It wasn’t -,” he shudders. “It’s rape. I don’t care what anyone else says. I never wanted that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The answer makes something warm blossom in Dean that he hadn’t even known he could feel, even though he’s still unsure how he feels about the whole concept of calling his purpose </span>
  <em>
    <span>rape</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But he does know that he’s never felt that tingly niceness he’d felt kissing Castiel when his masters used him or had someone else use him. “I didn’t know there were Alphas like you,” he says quietly, which is not the point he wanted to make to the Alpha, but then, maybe in a way, it still is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel grimaces. “My mother and my brothers said the same thing. Just not in the same tone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can see how that might be a thing. “Yeah, I don’t think Master Michael or Master Lucifer were ever ones for not taking what they wanted just cause someone else might not want to give it.” Didn’t even just go for omegas, either. Omegas have no choice anyway, but his masters were rich and powerful. They knew very few of their associates actually had the power to refuse them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I moved out of the manor as soon as I could support myself. My mother died a few years after, and Michael and Lucifer took over the estate and business endeavours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. “It was already only them when I arrived.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They cleaned house after my mother died. I guess you were - one of their first independent projects.” Going by the Alpha’s scent, he’s worded that much more neutrally than he feels about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess I was a success, seeing how they kept me as their only pet until they died,” Dean shrugs and isn’t sure what he thinks about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course his masters got their fill of other omegas at the club, but they never brought someone else home long-term. In their own way, they were attached. It makes something in him flare proudly because being their pet was hard work and he’d managed to be good enough for them. They didn’t need to supplement him with someone else to have their needs at home met. At the same time, he knows that this accomplishment has cost him. If there had been others, the attention divided between several pets, he would have had longer breaks to breathe and heal than were permitted to him as it was. He wouldn’t bear quite as many scars and old injuries wouldn’t flare up quite as often because there’d be less of them. He’d still have fought tooth and claw against any new pet, though. The few times they brought someone home just to mess with him, it had amused both his masters greatly. Well, that might have been different, had they been serious about someone new. They’d have beat the resistance out of him. Or rather, would have put him in the dark again and again, letting him know that the new pet got all his food and all their attention while he was alone and not real. It would have broken him fast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha squeezes his hand, looking at him questioningly and Dean shakes himself out of his thoughts at what he thinks is the very last moment before an impending panic attack. “So, betas then? That’s who you’ve got experience with?” he deflects away from the lurking dark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, actually... The first person who kissed me was, umm, that friend Meg from highschool that I told you about before. She is, umm - she is an Alpha,” Castiel admits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyebrows rise. “Okay, I did not expect that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha cringes. “Well, it’s how I figured out that I might not be able to smell normal Alpha pheromones, but Alpha arousal is </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>a turn off for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” Dean nods. “Wait, is that why you reacted so strongly when I mentioned that the first night? It wasn’t cause it’s an abomination or whatever?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel blushes. “She was - pushy. We eventually got along well enough as friends but there were a few situations where - well, she definitely crossed a line more than once and I was too young to put a stop to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M sorry. That sucks.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel huffs. “I don’t think you of all people should be the one apologizing when someone experiences unwanted Alpha attention.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. “‘S different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it really isn’t,” the Alpha disagrees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hums something non-committal because they’ve had this topic before. “So, you’re not into Alphas and you didn’t want to buy an omega, which leaves betas,” Dean probes again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," Castiel sighs, but he doesn’t say any more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which, well, Dean guesses if he wants to know, he’s actually gonna have to ask. He grimaces, but pushes through. "Charlie ever been one of them?" It comes out way less casual than he’d intended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" The Alpha asks, clearly surprised. "Why?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>For C.B.</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
  <em>
    <span>We'll fly on broken wings</span>
  </em>
  <span>? In your book?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh. Oh that!" The Alpha exclaims. "Yes, that is for Charlie, but no, not because we were - no. It was a hard time for both of us and we were both struggling to - well, fly. Fortunately, things have gotten better since."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's good to hear," Dean says with a silent breath of relief and isn't sure whether it’s because of the part where things have gotten better or the thing where the Alpha and his editor-best friend are actually just friends. Dean’s really very sure that he could never compete with someone like Charlie on any level. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I've done my fair share of dating and of, umm, staying the night when moods aligned. But it never worked out in the long run. I don’t know. Maybe I’m too defective or maybe - there were a few times when I thought that there was enough there to develop a spark," the Alpha shakes his head. "Sadly, there are several deal breakers about me and after the third date and before things could get serious, I usually started mentioning them." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean scoffs. "Those betas must all be stupid then because you're awesome."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha chuckles, clearly dismissing Dean’s argument, and counts on his fingers. "I had forfeit my family fortune, I can't scent, I don't want pups, I don't want to own anyone - not even as house staff -, I don’t like going out, hell, I don’t even enjoy dating. I enjoy spending my time alone at home with my books."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean chuckles at that last one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" Castiel asks with a huff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean holds his hands up in a disarming gesture. "I know that you like your books and your peace and that you don’t want the shittiness of the world to intrude. So you see yourself as this quiet lonesome type. I’m just not quite sure it’s true."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's not?" The Alpha asks, irritation turning into confusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean smiles at the Alpha. "I could be totally off base here, but seems to me that you’ve been a little lonely on your own, maybe? ‘Cause you, like, tend to ramble. When you are passionate about a topic. It’s like you’ve kept so much of your passion inside and now that you have an outlet it’s all tumbling out when you’re explaining the world to me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," the Alpha's face falls. "I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, no, that's not how I meant it. It's really cool that you know so much about so many different things. No one's ever taken the time to explain stuff to me. Other than giving me orders. So this is really kind of awesome. I mean," and now it's Dean's turn to frown, "as long as it doesn't bother you how stupid I am."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean, you're anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs because that’s clearly a thing the Alpha is saying just to be nice. "'S okay. You don't have to try to make me feel better. I know that I didn't learn much when I was in school and school was a brief stint anyway. Because after I presented… well." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"The amount of time you spent in school has nothing to do with your intelligence, Dean. You're very fast at figuring things out and adapting to new situations. That's a skill that needs intelligence."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's a skill that’s born from a basic wish to survive, nothing much else," Dean snorts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Figuring things out in my book on the first few pages that many Alphas didn't figure out until it was spelled out to them several books later does not need intelligence?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dumb luck," Dean counters. "In the beginning anyway. I was mostly trying to find a few details I could talk about so that I could try and hold a conversation with you. And then I had the advantage of meeting Charlie."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You were trying to figure out a way to hold a conversation with me?" The Alpha hones in on that part. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip, but really, the Alpha knows that Dean tries to be useful to him. "Seemed to make you happier than anything else I did."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel blinks a few times like he didn’t expect that before he slowly nods. "You're right. It does make me happy. If you’re only doing it for me, though, if it’s nothing you enjoy and you’d rather stay away from me…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn't even let Cas finish before he vehemently shakes his head. "No, it's kind of the coolest thing ever. I mean, I'm not good at free people conversations, I know that, but it's like - you actually listen to what I say even when it's stupid and that’s really kinda nice, and also," Dean squirms a little, uncomfortable with the admission, "I like when I can make you happy. Makes me feel happy, too." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe that’s an omega thing or a trained thing because of course it’s safer to keep the Alpha who owns you happy, but Dean doesn’t even care. Castiel deserves to be happy and if that makes Dean happy, too, he’s gonna do his level best to make it happen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both sit in silence for a bit after that confession before the Alpha picks the thread of conversation back up. “You know, if my agent - Hannah - were here, she’d tell you that I don’t suffer fools easily. She has had to physically pull me out of meetings before because we would have lost a contract to my sarcasm and, well, outright insults otherwise, and she’s also had to physically push me back into conference rooms when I was too exasperated with everyone’s stupidity to stay. So please trust me when I say that you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid, Dean. I would not enjoy your company if you were and I enjoy your company much more than I could ever have imagined.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that is - that sounds like more than just trying to build Dean up because the Alpha is nice. That sounds like the Alpha actually believes it. Dean’s got no idea what to do with that discovery, but the warmth in his belly blossoms again and it radiates outward in a wave of good feelings that he’s entirely unused to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, same. With the enjoying your company.” Dean scratches his neck a little embarrassedly, but he knows that there’s also a soft smile on his face that he doesn’t think he could wipe away even if he tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel smiles back at him, too, like it makes him happy in turn that Dean’s accepted what he said and shares the sentiment. So Dean follows his body’s urge to be closer and leans in a little more. It prompts the Alpha to put his arm around Dean and pull him in, so Dean puts his arm around Castiel’s waist and rests his head in the crook of Castiel’s neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s body heat mirrors the happy glow inside Dean, keeping him warm inside and out. The Alpha himself smells warm and content, too. And huh, maybe Dean’s gotta make sure that the Alpha knows it’s the same for him, because the Alpha can only infer from an absence of distinct scent that Dean’s not scared or in pain, he can’t actually know whether Dean feels good. “This is really nice,” he mumbles into the Alpha’s chest to rectify that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For me, too,” the Alpha whispers back, a little bit like it’s a forbidden confession, but his scent also gets even happier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip, but the same urge that had him want to be physically closer to the Alpha has him want to say what’s in his heart, even while he also wants to cower away from the Alpha with the thought of actually saying his deepest wish out loud. But at the same time, he wants to make sure that the Alpha knows. And that he knows Dean means it. And there is only one way to do that that he knows. Looking at him so that the Alpha can see the truth in his eyes. He fights with himself for a moment, and then turns enough so that he can look up at the Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanna keep this. I know it’s not up to me, but I’m gonna do anything I can to be allowed to stay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without the events of this walk, he’d never have dared to admit it. It seemed like much too big of a wish, with way too many consequences for the Alpha’s life to be allowed to utter it. But that was when he thought the Alpha would be able to smell it on him anyway, how happy it makes him to be near the Alpha in quiet moments like this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry that I have hurt you by not being able to tell you that you can stay from the beginning.” The Alpha draws Dean even closer as if to make sure that he’s all here and all safe. “I knew from - well, from the first time that you told me about how my brothers treated you, that I wanted to protect you. That I didn’t want anyone to ever touch you harshly again. That I’d break anyone’s nose who tried to use you. That I wanted you safe. I just couldn’t see myself as -,” he shakes his head. “It took Charlie setting me straight. Making me understand that I don’t have to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That it’s okay to have you here and still stay </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Does that make sense?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods, because strangely enough, it does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel breathes a sigh of relief before chuckling. “She’s gonna come by again. To check on us. Or rather, on you. I have the distinct feeling that there’ll be hell to pay for me if you’re not </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> content and happy and feel very safe and protected.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She said to me that she was gonna make sure I was gonna be okay,” Dean admits. He hadn’t taken it very seriously in the moment. It didn’t seem to him like a random beta could do very much one way or the other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, she told me in no uncertain terms that she’d destroy me and my whole life if you ever actually ended up at the auction house.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She can’t make you keep me,” Dean scoffs because as much as he wants that, that’s still pretty insolent of the beta. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe not. But after yesterday,” Castiel shakes his head. “I was always aware that Charlie has - connections. I never asked and she never explained any details. And we’d never really talked about omegas before, well, before you. But now? I don’t know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you saying?” Dean asks. “Can she like, destroy your career or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably,” Castiel answers drily. “But if I’m not mistaken, there’s something much more important. I think she may be able to offer you - a third option. Something that is neither staying with me </span>
  <em>
    <span>nor </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to be sold.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? That’s impossible.” Dean sits up straight. “Someone’s gotta own me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In this country, legally, unfortunately yes,” Castiel says grimly. “But I’ll still make sure that you and Charlie have some time to talk on your own when she comes back. I have the distinct feeling that as much as she likes me and even though she generally trusts me, there are things that as a rule aren’t shared with Alphas and whatever she has to say to you on this topic falls under that rule I gather.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re okay with that?” Dean asks flabbergasted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would be highly hypocritical of me to expect people to tell me their secrets if I keep things like my scenting issue a secret as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s very much not the same. The Alpha’s issue doesn’t have any relevance for Charlie. If she tries to steal Dean away, that has relevance. Still, “Charlie doesn’t know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Castiel shakes his head. “No one other than, well, my family and the few prospective romantic partners, who I had to tell, knows.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stares, then blinks. Either the Alpha forgot him on that list or he counts him as a - </span>
  <em>
    <span>romantic prospect</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Like in an actual romantic match? That’s - that’s a dream from so long ago that Dean had forgotten it existed. Even before he presented, with the way both society and his life were going, it had seemed like such a remote possibility that it may as well not have existed. Very few people ever even try to find a true match, their physical needs met by pets, their line continuing via mares, the chances of finding someone who is both scent compatible and personality compatible exceptionally low. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean does another double take because - </span>
  <em>
    <span>scent compatible</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way the Alpha smells like Dean’s favorite food, served on the sunniest day of the year. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way Dean’s body searches out the Alpha without his conscious input. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way that his body had relaxed into the Alpha’s scent and touch from the beginning, before he could know that his touch was gentle and wouldn’t hurt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But also. The way the Alpha ends up wrapped around Dean at night. The way he blinks and retreats once he consciously notices that he’s holding Dean in place. The way the Alpha always seems to hesitate before leaving Dean’s side, like he has to convince himself to go. He may not be able to consciously smell Dean, but he has sought him out from the first night as well, has even admitted that he has no more control over this than Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Scent compatible.</span>
  </em>
  <span> That must be it. That must be the explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” Castiel asks. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean only notices that he’s sitting ramrod straight, his hands cramped into his jeans, when the Alpha touches his arm. “This is gonna sound weird as fuck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me anyway?” The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think we’re -,” Dean shakes his head because fuck, it sounds insane. But it makes sense right? Even if he’s an omega. That’s still a thing that happens, right? Even if it never gets allowed to form into a bond because with a fully formed bond - an omega would have some influence over an Alpha. The thought kind of blows Dean’s mind. “Don’t freak out, please. Because I think I’m freaking out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” Immediately, Castiel’s hand is on Dean’s knee, grounding him. “I won’t freak out, I promise. Just tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It still sounds insane. “I think we might be - scent compatible. I think that’s what’s happening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” The Alpha’s eyes turn wide. “That - that isn’t even possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Omegas can form scent bonds,” Dean answers defensively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They might be, but I’m not,” Castiel gestures to his nose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I -,” Dean shakes his head. “No idea. But my body reacts differently to you than to any other Alpha. ‘S always searching you out. And you said -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That I have no control over myself. That I seem to always end up touching you.” The Alpha’s mouth hangs open. “But that’s - I didn’t think - This was never even a possibility. Not for me.” He gapes, apparently completely out of words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which, Dean gets it. He’s expected mindless servitude interspersed with sharp pain for the rest of his life. Being inherited by Castiel had already blown all of his expectations out of the water. But this here? It doesn’t want to fit in his mind. Even if it’s the first explanation that makes sense to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to have to research this.” Castiel sounds stunned. “I’ve never even looked it up. Scent bonds are so rare anyway and with everything I never thought -,” He breaks off again. “Is it - is it okay if we go home so that I can -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean nods, “yes, of course.” Though he’s worried now. He’s never seen the Alpha out of it like this. Like his whole world has been turned on its head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, dread forms in Dean’s stomach. Because the Alpha knows it, too. Must know it. That a fully formed bond has a hold on both partners. And the way this has been going? What with the Alpha being so nice to him and neither of them resisting touching each other? With everything they’ve shared about themselves, trying to figure out how the other ticks? That’s not just being compatible - that’s acting on it. That’s forming the beginnings of a bond. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blood leaves Dean’s face when he realizes what that means. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is no way to keep what they have and stop a bond from forming. It’ll just grow on its own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d have to - well, the Alpha would have to stop treating Dean like a person or sell him on after all. Those are the only ways Dean can see how to stop this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shuts his mouth very firmly to make sure neither of these options comes out aloud. He doesn’t want them. He’s only just found something good, he’s not gonna give it up that easily. If he wants that, the Alpha’s gonna have to make that choice without Dean prompting him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They are quiet when they get up. Dean looks back at the lake one more time. He’d been sure he was gonna see it again just half an hour ago. He’s not sure anymore now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they make their way back to the big path, the Alpha waits for Dean there, making sure they are walking side-by-side. Dean works harder to suppress the pang of longing that is in his heart. He’s only been to this forest once, he has no business already missing being outside like this, being allowed to stroll around at the Alpha’s side like he’s not what he is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grimaces. Some distraction would be great about now, but there’s no bird conveniently near that he could ask Cas about, and he definitely doesn’t want to talk about the scent compatibility that’s thrown a wrench in the tentative peace with their situation that they’d found.  So he bites his lip and keeps quiet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re already almost home when suddenly the Alpha straightens up with a frown and then speeds up with a growl. Dean hurries to follow the Alpha’s increased pace and only notices what’s going on a moment later. There is someone in the Alpha’s garden. Someone tall and blond and skinny as far as Dean can see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neighborhood association?” Dean hazards a guess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My garden is already up to standard,” Castiel growls. “And I don’t know this person.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He starts jogging, and okay, now it’s definitely noticeable that the shoes are too big for Dean because he’s slipping and sliding and he’s falling back in comparison to the Alpha because he’s not sure he’s not gonna fall over his own feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel sprints the last few hundred feet, growl announcing him loud and clear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Consequently, the intruder notices the Alpha running towards him before Castiel has even made it to the gate. He calls out something that Dean doesn’t understand. He’s not sure it’s meant for Castiel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get the hell off my property, whoever you are!” Castiel bellows and gets ready to charge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde guy makes no fast movements, holding out his hands palm up to show that he doesn’t plan on attacking Castiel, but he also stands his ground. It makes another growl break out of Castiel’s throat and Dean is pretty sure that if he could see Castiel from the front right now, his eyes would be bleeding red. He wonders about it, in an abstract kind of way, how Alpha red looks like in these normally kind eyes. Whether it would make Dean cower in fear. As it is, it makes Dean slow his steps. He’s too far away to smell whether the intruder is an Alpha, but even if he isn’t, with an Alpha this angry about having his territory under attack, Dean’s not keen on getting in between the Alpha and his target. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s come this far in his thoughts when he notices movement to the right. There’s a second person turning around the corner of the house. Immediately, his whole body is on full alert. There’s a second person and the Alpha hasn’t noticed them yet. There’s a second person who might </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>his Alpha!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel!” He calls out in warning before he’s even finished that thought. “On your right!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha swivels and - freezes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The newcomer doesn’t even spare a look for Dean, he walks straight towards Castiel, though he stops a good ten feet away, the two of them staring each other down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean inches closer to Castiel while the tall intruder makes his way over towards the newcomer, never taking his eyes off of Castiel, either. Alpha then, and protecting his accomplice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean racks his brain, but they don’t look like any of Master Michael’s or Master Lucifer’s business associates, here to settle a score. The tall blonde Alpha doesn’t really look like a bodyguard, either. He’s too lanky. And his hands are still palm out, nowhere near where a gun would be. It makes no sense. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They have all come to a standstill now, just staring at each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, it’s the newcomer who breaks the silence. “Hello, little brother. How’s it hanging?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Gabriel?” The Alpha’s voice is a toneless whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes almost bulge out of his head when the impact of the one word hits him. This is the omega brother. The one who is supposed to be in Europe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Funny thing, we were holing up for the night in a motel on Route 6 when suddenly the news said this thing about a double homicide involving two assholes whose names were oh so very familiar. Can you imagine my surprise?” Gabriel dramatically puts both hands over his heart while he takes another step closer. The forward movement is immediately mirrored by the tall Alpha. Gabriel waves vaguely towards him. “Bal here said it was a blessing for the world and to leave it at that, but…” He shrugs, though the gesture lacks the nonchalance he’s trying to portray. “I haven’t been in the good old US of A in quite a few years before Bal took this assignment, so I thought, hey, what better reason to visit my little brother? And I guess his - who are you anyway?” He turns to Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Dean,” Dean answers without even thinking about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel raises his eyebrows. “You’ve got a name! And not even one of our traditional household staff names! Good for you! So, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>are you then? His mare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s got the simultaneous urge to roll his eyes and gnash his teeth. Why is everyone assuming that? He could just as well be house-staff who Castiel had let keep their name. For real. He grumbles to himself for a heartbeat before suppressing the reaction and looking to Cas instead. Because the omegas are doing all the talking here and none of the Alphas seems to want to jump in. Which, like, it’s not that he doesn’t expect weird at this point, but also it makes him itchy, especially since he has no idea what to answer or what exactly he is to Castiel. Not his pet, that much is clear. Very much not a mare. But staff doesn’t go around kissing the master of the house, so he’s not that, either. A companion still might be the closest description, but Dean’s not even sure that’s still a thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Castiel just keeps staring at his brother like he’s seen a ghost, Dean settles on, “I’m part of his inheritance.” That part is still true, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Didn’t know the assholes were trying to procreate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs and bites his lip. “They weren’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you’re way too pretty to be staff. And if you’re not a mare or staff, then in this godforsaken country, that leaves only very few options - ha! You are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Gabriel deducts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly there are two pairs of eyes roaming over Dean’s body, like both strangers are wondering what the hell he’s doing outside wearing jeans and a hoodie when he should be kneeling in the bedroom naked. It makes his face flush, shame flooding his body, because he’s a bad pet, enjoying clothes and the outside, strutting around like he belongs here. Like it’s okay to talk instead of being silent and waiting for when his master has use of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A heartbeat later, Castiel is in front of him. “Leave Dean alone!” The Alpha growls, his scent smoke and fire. “I don’t care that you are my brother, you do not get to make him feel bad!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mais non, pas du tout! ” The blonde Alpha rushes in-between Gabriel and Castiel, his own growl matching Castiel’s. “And I do not care who you are, you do not get to tell him what to do! You have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>authority over him!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel groans and then holds a hand out to the Alpha, obviously trying to calm him down. “Laisse-moi faire, Balthazar. We both know that he can’t do shit to me since I’m yours. And I can deal with him being an asshole. It’s kind of nice, actually, to be allowed to bitch back on my own and not have to pretend to be your fucking staff for once. That whole demure thing really isn’t working for me. So, let me yell at him on my own!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar’s growl stops as abruptly as it had started. “Incorrigible,” he snorts.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know it,” Gabriel grins widely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar shakes his head, but he makes an inviting gesture from Gabriel towards Castiel. “Fight your own fights then. Unless he touches you. If he does that, then he must die.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel rolls his eyes, though the gesture seems fond. “Stop being overdramatic, Bal.” He turns back to Castiel with a challenging smile. "So, you gonna welcome the pariah home or are you gonna pretend I never existed like the rest of this country does?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s eyes wander from Gabriel to Balthazar and back, his scent still bristly, but so much confusion in it now. Like he’s frozen in place because half of him wants to attack the foreign Alpha on his grounds and the other half wants to sit down and digest that his brother is suddenly here. Dean automatically presses closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I think we broke him, chéri," Balthazar snickers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Looks like it," Gabriel frowns, his head tilted the exact way that Castiel does it when he's trying to puzzle something out. "Not sure whether it's a good sign or bad. Hey, pretty boy," he turns to Dean. "Is he usually this unresponsive?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean feels his own protective growl want to make its way out of his throat, but as always, he swallows it back down. Castiel doesn’t need an omega defending him. It would open them both up to ridicule. But what else to do? Dean’s never had an active role when it comes to visitors. Offering food and drinks seems to be universal, though. Master Michael and Master Lucifer had their staff do it, and with Charlie, Castiel had asked Dean to provide coffee and toast for her. That should work then. "Alpha,” he starts cautiously, “do you want me to make some fancy coffee for your visitors? There is also still enough pie to offer some to them. If you want to invite them inside, I’d be happy to prepare refreshments for them."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of us,” Castiel answers, latching onto this part like it's the first firm ground he’s found since his brother showed up. “There will be no eating pie in this house where you don’t get your share.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes that warm and gushy feeling come back. “Thank you, Alpha,” Dean smiles softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t,” the Alpha shakes his head, though he’s also got a miniscule smile playing around his lips and his eyes have gone soft. His hand comes up like he wants to cup Dean’s face, though he lets it sink again before it can make it there. “I told you, you’ll never go hungry here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pie is not about going hungry, so it’s definitely a different thing from getting to eat dinner, but Dean’s not about to point that out while two strangers are staring at them. So all he says is, “‘M still grateful, though.” He looks at Cas to make sure the Alpha can see it in his eyes and then they’re caught again and how does that happen every single time?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, Cassie? We’re still here, you know?” Comes a voice from behind. “And honestly, I’m kind of starving, so that coffee and cake your inheritance offered sounds good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pie,” Dean grumbles, while Castiel growls, “His name is Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel cackles at both of them.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A bit later, Gabriel is sniffing around the living room, unashamedly checking out every corner, while Balthazar is standing watch, his attention split between Gabriel and Castiel like he thinks Castiel will snatch his brother any moment and drag him away to be sold. Not that Gabriel himself seems to share those worries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel is frazzled, sending glances towards his brother like he still can’t believe his own eyes that he’s really seeing him. The glances he sends Balthazar are much harder. And yeah, Dean hasn’t figured it out yet, either, what is up with the European Alpha, who is apparently Gabriel’s owner, but doesn’t behave like any owner Dean knows. Cas keeps glancing while he busies himself with putting the pie in the microwave while Dean turns on the coffee maker. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel?” Dean asks quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Castiel blinks at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can do this on my own. If you want to get a fourth chair?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Castiel blinks and then looks back like he’s sizing up Balthazar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, Dean has a feeling that the chair will not prove a problem. “Kinda don’t think your brother got trained to kneel, to be honest.” In fact, the way Gabriel’s behaved so far, all cocky bravado and derogatory attitude towards their society, Dean doesn’t think Gabriel’s been trained at all. Dean’s got no idea how he feels about that, other than that it makes him uncomfortable. So he doesn’t think about it. Get through the situation first, think about it after. It’s come in handy a lot in his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll get a chair,” Castiel says and abruptly turns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are three pairs of eyes following his exit from the room. Dean shakes his head and goes to get cutlery. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, did he take you on as staff or something? Seeing how you’re wearing clothes and everything, I’m assuming you’re not serving as his pet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean jumps when Gabriel is suddenly next to him. Only when Gabriel chuckles does Dean notice that he’s holding the forks in front of him like he’s planning to stab Gabriel with them. When the other omega holds out his hand for the cutlery, Dean hands it to him instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take some napkins to the table, too, if you feel like helping,” Dean grumps because he never likes being surprised, and since Gabriel’s an omega he’s allowed to grump at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Gabriel seems inclined to listen and start moving. He’s staring at the four forks and four teaspoons. “So are we eating at the table? You and I, I mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean nods. “We’ll be eating and we’ll be sitting at the table. Unless your - whatever he is to you, doesn’t allow it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mate. He’s my mate,” Gabriel says absently before pinning Dean in a sharp gaze. “Do you need rescuing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean is so taken aback that he physically takes a step back. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel looks towards the door, but Castiel is not coming back yet and Balthazar is watching them without coming closer. “Seriously. If you need out of here, just say peep. Wasn’t really the plan to get into the local resistance while we were here, but this whole country is so fucked up, it had to happen sooner or later. Might take us a bit, but I’m certain that we can arrange to have you whisked away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And do what?” Dean asks bewildered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel shrugs. “There’s options. We’ve got a few contacts in the area, even if we just know them online, we could figure something out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head because this is all so wild. “Not you, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel raises his eyebrows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas said something this afternoon… Nevermind,” Dean clamps his mouth shut because really he has no reason to trust Gabriel with any information.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas, huh?” Gabriel smirks. “You sure you’re not gonna get punished for that one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs and tries to look casual, even while berating himself internally for letting this slip. “Got away with it so far.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel chooses this moment to come back, carrying his office chair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel snatches some napkins and saunters over to the table towards his brother. Dean stares after him before shaking himself out of it. It’s like he’s fallen into an alternate dimension. Suddenly, everyone is kind or trying to help him, and it’s all really strange and he trusts none of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nope. He’s not thinking about any of this. He’s gonna have a nervous breakdown if he does, and he has to go sit at a table and eat pie. It seems like a challenge.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He makes coffee for all of them, puts pie on plates and adds a generous scoop of icecream to every plate other than his own, which gets a very small scoop. That at least is something he’s used to, even if he’s not used to it being himself who limits his food intake. But he really wants to avoid another incident. Especially while they have visitors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He huffs at himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t have visitors, the Alpha does. But he has to remind himself of it because that whole beta-like domesticity is really getting to him. For a moment, there’s a stab in his heart as he remembers the scent bond that might yet fuck up everything that had already seemed in Dean’s grasp. He represses that thought, too. Get through the immediate troubles first, think about the shit that’s gonna hurt you later when that impact comes closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes the coffee and pies over to the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar has come over already as well, unwilling to let Castiel be this much closer to Gabriel than he is apparently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have no</span>
  </em>
  <span> house rules, Gabriel, that’s what I’m trying to say,” Castiel grumbles, irritation in his scent back full force. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods because he can definitely give testament to that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel’s suspicious expression indicates that he doesn’t think it all that likely, but he shrugs and lets himself fall into the chair that is usually Dean’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sends a questioning glance at Castiel, even though he is pretty sure already what to expect. Which is for the Alpha to take a seat in his office chair. Which prompts Balthazar to take the chair between him and Gabriel. Which leaves only Cas’ usual chair for Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s not super sure that it is a great idea to have two strange Alphas next to each other, even if Castiel has calmed down from the territorial adrenaline, but Dean wouldn’t really prefer to have the omegas in the middle as a buffer if it comes to blows, either. He’s been kicked out of the way when Lucifer got into a fight before, and he much prefers to be out of the way from the beginning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel draws himself up to full height as soon as they are seated, assuming the role of head of the table, even if technically this table is way too small to have a noticeable head-end and they’re all cramped around its three accessible sides much too closely. “Thank you for preparing this, Dean. Please enjoy, everyone. And after that, I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>very much</span>
  </em>
  <span> appreciate it if you could explain to me what the hell is going on and why you're here. Here in this country, not just here in this house.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The speech makes Gabriel cackle again. “Well, Cassie, whatever else may have changed, it’s good to know that your approach to unwanted social interactions is still to bulldoze through and see what happens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shrugs, irritation tempered by something wistful. “There was no other way for me to survive our family.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel shrugs. “Well, see, you mean that figuratively. But for me, if they had gotten their will, chances are I’d have died somewhere between the first and ninth childbirth by now.” Balthazar growls softly at that and Gabriel leans over to pet his knee. “Pas besoin de ça, mon Alpha,” he says with a smile. “I’m still here, n'est-ce pas?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“From the beginning, Gabriel? Please? Maybe introduce us, even?” Castiel asks slightly desperately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel chuckles. “Well, this is Balthazar. We met in Paris - how many years ago is that now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you travel with love, it’s like no time passes at all, non? Tu es toujours aussi beau,” Balthazar says fondly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel snorts. “Glad that you see it that way because I could and would definitely be pointing out how much wrinklier we’re getting with every passing year. Anyway, Bal’s itinerary fit mine back then, so I decided to hitch my hike to him for a while. Didn’t really originally plan for it to end up being a permanent arrangement, but I’m not complaining.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You hitchhiked with a strange Alpha?” Castiel gapes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, believe me, he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> strange anymore at that point,” Gabriel wriggles his eyebrows. “And it wasn’t that dangerous, either. With the circles we were running in, if he’d tried to collar me against my will, he’d have had hell to pay. Believe me, I wasn’t gonna get caught after I’d made it out of this fucking country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You’re wearing his collar now,” Castiel points out, Gabriel’s collar much more visible now that he’s not wearing a jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you assholes made it the law, not by his choice or mine,” Gabriel scoffs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I still do not understand what you’re doing in this country,” Castiel presses. “I thought you were safely in Europe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww,” Gabriel’s tone is overly saccharine. “Are you worried for me, little brother? That is adorable of you. But there’s no need. He holds my papers and everything. He can bring me to this country or any other whenever he likes, and he can take me right back out of it as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>does he like that? Seeing how you just pointed out how much you hate this country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re travel-reporting. Well, he is the one doing the actual writing. I’m mostly along for the ride. Though honestly,” Gabriel wrinkles his nose, “this trip is not gonna go down as one of my favorites. Like, it’s not exactly great for omegas anywhere, but the sheer fucking amount of </span>
  <em>
    <span>no omegas</span>
  </em>
  <span> signs in this country? Holy shit. In Europe, at least I usually get into places as long as he’s with me. Here? The most exciting thing I could do is to stay in the fucking motel all day because at least I’d have TV.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is not safe alone in the motel, chéri.” It’s said in the softly chiding tone of an argument that’s been had before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, I know. So I’m waiting in the locked car like a good omega, but goddamn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will mention it very critically in my travel guide,” Balthazar promises. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You better. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>annoying</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This country is a destination that mated couples should avoid,” Balthazar agrees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mated</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Castiel’s eyes turn wide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, little brother, no need to look quite so shocked. Not all countries or Alphas subscribe to the notion that omegas are unworthy of any bond other than chains.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not a notion I subscribe to, either!” Castiel sputters, but his scent wavers like he’s thoroughly shaken. “It’s just - </span>
  <em>
    <span>mated</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Barbares,” Balthazar mutters before speaking up. “Being a mated couple is perfectly fine for an Alpha and an omega. In fact, it is a most natural bond. Why does no one here understand?” He sounds frustrated and he smells frustrated, though his scent has less burn to it than Castiel’s when he’s in the same mood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love gets in the way of profit,” Gabriel shrugs matter of factly. “So it’s discouraged.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar frowns at that. “But love is what makes the world worthwhile, non? Makes the colors shine brighter and the artists make art?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honey, do I have to mention Titanic again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar shudders. “Please do not. But I see what you mean. The American way of love, sink a big ship and throw a big jewel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel snorts. “Something like that. So, brother, do I have to explain the concept of mates to you or do you think you can wrap your mind around it, even though I’m just a lowly omega legally bound to this fetching French Alpha? Bound to, mind you, not owned by. It’s not the same.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He draws the collar of his shirt down a little, showing the clear outline of a bite under his leather collar. Dean gapes. He’s heard of mating bites, but he’s never seen one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel sees his gaze and nudges Balthazar. “Show them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar rolls his eyes, but he rolls down the collar of his turtleneck until a matching bite becomes visible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s mine, just like I’m his,” Gabriel says with some satisfaction. “We’ve got the bites and the bond to prove it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s -,” Castiel shakes his head. “I didn’t know anyone still did this. Isn’t it - quite the archaic and painful tradition?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes both Balthazar and Gabriel groan in unison. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cassie, I remember you being the smart one of our bunch. You should really read a few things published outside of the US every so often. Like, newer research into hormonal bonds, maybe. I think you’d be surprised. A mating bite is </span>
  <em>
    <span>much more</span>
  </em>
  <span> than an archaic tradition.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oui,” Balthazar agrees. “It changes you. On the, how do you say, on the molecular level. It is quite well researched in France.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that -,” Dean starts, then stops when everyone is looking at him. Castiel nods at him to go on, though, so Dean clears his throat and presses on. “Isn’t that - terrifying? Getting bit and knowing it will change you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Non,” Balthazar shakes his head. “It is - elating!” he exclaims with an expansive gesture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel puts a hand on Balthazar’s arm. “Honey, I think Dean is coming at this from a very different perspective than you are.” He turns to Dean. “Bal is right, it is fucking amazing, but that’s only if it’s, you know, with someone you love. Who you want to be bonded to forever and who you’re compatible with. Not if it is someone who bought you who’s forcing themselves on you. Or someone who inherited you, for that matter.” The last part is said with a slight growl towards Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Dean growls right back, “it’s not Cas’ fault that he inherited me, leave him alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel’s mood immediately swings upwards, his grin broad as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Look at that, Bal, there’s some spunk left in the omegas here after all. First sign I’ve seen in the whole month we’ve been here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gabriel,” Castiel sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Please. Dean and I both had a few exhausting days and believe it or not, we’ve been through an interrogation like yours already. So if we can shorten this in any way, that would be much preferable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” Gabriel frowns. “Who would you know who isn’t totally on board with this fucktard society?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His editor,” Dean provides quietly. “She was unamused about me as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Editor?” Balthazar asks with a raised eyebrow. “Are you an author?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel confirms. “I write crime novels.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do?” Gabriel sits up straight again. “You’re not living off the family fortune?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do with the family money. Even though, after our brothers’ passing, it seems that I have no choice in that anymore.” He perks up. “Hey, you’re here now! We can work something out! You cannot inherit, but I assume that there is a bank account that I could transfer money to, for you and your mate?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We do not need your blood money,” Balthazar growls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel pats a hand down Balthazar’s shoulder. “We don’t. But we know people who do. Cassie, on a scale of 1 to 10 how much do you think it’s gonna vex Mikey and Luci from beyond the grave if their money goes to the resistance?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“11,” Castiel answers without hesitation. “But Gabriel, funding the resistance…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is illegal, yes, yes. We have ways to make sure it’s not coming back to you, no worries.” Gabriel leans closer to Castiel, harsh, questioning glance leveled at him, “Is that your only objection?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel chuckles. “Not that you let me actually finish my first objection.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was it something else?” Gabriel blinks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Castiel shakes his head. “I was worried about your safety if you’re involved in illegal activities.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhhh, involved in illegal activities, that makes us sound so hardcore in such a nerdy way!” Gabriel cackles. “Pretty sure Mikey and Luci were involved in a lot of shady bullshit, were you this worried about them, too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Castiel shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you think they could handle themselves, but I can’t?” Gabriel challenges. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel looks at him flatly. “Because I didn’t give a flying fuck about them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It produces a long moment of silence before Gabriel erupts in laughter. “Told you he was okay, mon Alpha!” He slaps Balthazar in the shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar smiles for basically the first time in the whole afternoon, though he’s also rolling eyes at Gabriel’s antics. “Well then, I’m glad you were right, chéri. I did not hold out much hope. Alphas in this country are -,” he breaks off with a vague gesture and a shake of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean watches it with fascination. Yes, actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>watches </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. Because Castiel’s rules stick and because there is no one paying attention to him anyway. Not that with the way Gabriel is behaving, Dean thinks Balthazar would care about whatever the fuck Dean is doing while sitting quietly in his own corner over here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Gabriel is - fuck, Castiel had said Europe is different, but Dean’s expected something along the lines of there are rules concerning how much damage can legally be done to an omega. He didn’t expect </span>
  <em>
    <span>mating bonds</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He tries to be subtle about it when he sniffs the air, trying to figure out what the mating bond means for the scents of the pair, but he can’t decipher it. He guesses he would have had to know their scents individually to figure out any changes that may or may not have occurred. As it is, he can only tell that their scents react to each other, ups and downs in the mood of the conversation reliably mirrored. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wonders whether his and Castiel’s scent do that, too. Whether their scent bond has taken hold enough for that already. Even though - he already knows that Cas’ scent goes darker when Dean is in pain. And that Cas’ scent gets sweeter not only when Cas is happy, but also when Dean is happy, Dean’s own scent most certainly sweeter then as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s not taken it for granted, of course not. Master Lucifer’s scent especially always </span>
  <em>
    <span>delighted </span>
  </em>
  <span>in causing Dean pain, his moods improving the more he managed to terrify Dean. Even after less than a week here, Dean can’t imagine Castiel’s scent or Castiel himself ever reacting that way. But Dean hadn’t seen that as part of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bond</span>
  </em>
  <span>, rather as a part of who Castiel is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that probably holds true. Castiel had reacted with guilt when he noticed that Dean had gotten hurt on the first day, when all Dean would have smelled of is his old masters and fear. Dean doubts that any scent compatibility would have made it through as long as he smelled like the Alpha’s brothers. So that was truly just Castiel feeling bad because he had hurt Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, maybe that’s the way it goes when you have compatibility. Maybe the feelings come first, the compatibility not really changing anything, just enhancing what is already there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” Castiel’s hand on his brings him back to the present. Three pairs of eyes are staring at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, I’m sorry,” Dean cringes. “Did you have a task for me, Alpha? I’m sorry that I didn’t listen.” He grimaces because it’s unacceptable that he doesn’t notice when the Alpha is giving him a command, especially in company. Even if this Alpha’s commands are always framed as requests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brother,” Gabriel growls, the warning not even just an undertone, his readiness to intervene clear as a bell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel pays him no heed. “You haven’t eaten more than a bite of your pie. It worries me. So I wanted to ask you whether you are feeling alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Dean blinks and looks at the plate in front of him. It’s true, the ice cream has melted, and there is no more than a forkful or two of the pie missing. “I didn’t - notice.” He blinks again, because that worries not only Castiel, that worries Dean as well. He has never not noticed food that was right in front of him. And this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>pie</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel leans a little closer, sucking in a long breath. Then he shakes his head like he is disappointed. “I can’t decipher it,” he sighs. “Will you tell me? Is it your stomach?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Dean shakes his head. “I feel -,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The word is on the tip of his tongue already when he swallows it back down. “A little overwhelmed,” is what he settles on instead. “My stomach is fine, but I’m - not really hungry.” He snorts at himself because since when is that a thing. Especially when the food in question is apple pie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to wrap the pie and put it back in the fridge for later?” Castiel asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s an option?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Dean. That’s an option,” Cas smiles at him, though his smile is sad again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it okay if I go wrap up the pie then?” Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” Castiel stretches out his hand like he wants to squeeze Dean’s arm, but then he glances towards their visitors and doesn’t. “If you need a break, please feel free to take one. It’s been quite the eventful day already.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Dean mumbles and gets up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we came at a bad time…” Balthazar says with a frown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Castiel shakes his head and turns back to his brother and his brother’s mate. “I’m glad you came. I’m glad to know Gabriel is doing well. I had always hoped for the best, but if there were any more postcards after I moved out of the manor, they did not get forwarded.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kinda didn’t write as much anymore after I met this oaf,” Gabriel nudges Balthazar. “Kinda couldn’t write any of the things that I wanted to write after that. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how you’d react, either. I mean, you put me on that boat to Europe in the hopes of securing my freedom, and here I was, willing to give that freedom up for something as intangible and un-American as </span>
  <em>
    <span>l’amour</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean almost stumbles on his way to the kitchen because Gabriel just openly confirmed Dean’s suspicion that Cas had indeed helped his brother escape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I helped secure your freedom because I believe that you should have as much choice as the rest of us. If your choice is to bind yourself to an Alpha whose company brings you joy, that is your choice,” Castiel answers with a shrug. Then his voice becomes thoughtful. “Though if you don’t mind, I would like to ask you what it means in practice. I’m not well versed in the law. Of this country or any other, to be honest. And my lawyer is not the type of person to explain anything that he doesn’t have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean keeps listening quietly while scraping off the ice cream from the rest of the pie and wrapping it in foil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there’s still a contract. But it’s a marriage contract and I got to sign it myself. Still makes him responsible for me and obliges me to obey and shit. But I’m not his property to do with as he pleases. Not the way it is here. He’s my husband, not my owner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is warmth in Castiel’s voice when he answers. “Husband. That sounds much better. I’m glad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hearing that word in Castiel’s voice almost makes Dean stumble again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Husband</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It gives him a headrush, it sounds so foreign while at the same time sparking so much jealousy and want.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So many thanks to Edelwin for turning my atrocious French into something that makes sense! &lt;3</p>
<p>So, what do you all think about French Balthazar? :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean actually makes use of the Alpha’s permission to take a break. He makes his way to the bathroom because that’s going to be a necessity in a little while anyway, and afterwards doesn’t quite find the will to go back and try to be part of a conversation that he has no idea where he fits in or how to navigate it. Somehow, sitting at the table with everyone seems much more exhausting than kneeling quietly underneath it until an order is given.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>said that it would be okay for him to rest for a little bit, so even though Dean didn’t ask permission explicitly, he tiptoes to the guest room, making sure that at least he’s as unobtrusive as possible. With how little he has to add to the conversation, Dean doubts that anyone will miss him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The armchair in the guestroom is quickly becoming one of his favorite places in the house. He lets his hand glide over the soft blanket like he does every time when he comes in here. It’s still soft as a cloud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops in his motion when suddenly he has an epiphany. Of course the Alpha doesn’t care whether Dean’s scent sticks to the furniture. He can’t smell it! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though - if they are indeed developing a scent bond, maybe he wouldn’t mind either way. It’s possible that if he could smell it, Dean’s scent would be as pleasant and relaxing for him as Castiel’s scent is for Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s also possible, though, that the scent compatibility means that the Alpha would mind more that Dean’s scent is basically everywhere if he’d actually be able to notice. Because it’s entirely reasonable to think that the more encompassed by Dean’s scent he is, the more influence the bond will gather. It’s likely, actually. Dean doesn’t really know in any detail how scent bonds work, only that they exist and that even omegas can form them. In theory, anyway, if anyone wanted to bond with them and allowed the bond to form. Which, not a thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Other than that he suspects that a scent bond is exactly what Balthazar and Gabriel have. Maybe on top of the mating bond, or maybe it came with the mating bond, or maybe it was there first. Dean’s got no idea how that works, either.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On an impulse, Dean takes the blanket and lets it open from its perfect fold. One time. Just this one time, while the Alpha is otherwise occupied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes off his hoodie, having only toed off the shoes when coming back into the house. He contemplates taking off the jeans as well, but decides that that is too much. Castiel is okay with him in a shirt, but not so much with him in underwear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which, the fact that he is wearing layers is still such a novelty to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brings his feet up on the armchair again, bringing his knees close to his chest and draping the blanket around his shoulders and then around the rest of himself until the warm huddle almost feels like a hug. It is as warm and soft as he remembers the huddles with his brother to be, and in opposition to those, there are not even bad smells to contend with. Neither from the blanket - motel blankets always being on the iffy side - nor from his brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And how does thinking about his brother’s incessant farting make him wistful? It’s not something that anyone would ever remember fondly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, Castiel’s brother is here. His older omega brother who disappeared from his life after he presented. And while Dean and Gabriel are probably polar opposites in every other way, that’s one characteristic they share. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel is definitely struggling to adjust, but he’s talking to his brother like he is - well, his estranged brother, who he’s just getting to know again. He’s inquisitive and protective and all the things Dean would dream about his brother being if Dean allowed himself to dream about such things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets his head rest against the leather, not sure whether he wants to imagine how a meeting would go or whether he wants to banish the thought because if he imagines this, he’s gonna imagine it like he wants it to go and then the reality of his life will only hurt more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though that’s unfair, too. Because he’s wrapped up in softness, his stomach so nicely full that he even had the luxury to wrap a piece of pie </span>
  <em>
    <span>for later</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Which, in his whole life, has never happened before. Even back with his dad and Sam, food was scarce. Sam may have gotten some leeway sometimes, debating with Dean to get the last of the cereal instead of whatever sensible mash Dean had managed to cook up, but Dean never even had that luxury. He ate whatever there was to eat and he ate it before it disappeared into someone else’s stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So really, the reality of Dean’s life currently is better than it ever was and Dean would do good not to forget that instead of entertaining hopeless dreams.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, is this your nest in here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean jumps when suddenly Gabriel’s voice comes from the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nest?” he manages to ask even while he’s trying to get his heart rate back under control. Guilt washes over him when he takes quick stock of his surroundings to check whether he was doing anything that’s punishable. He was allowed to take a break, but he wasn’t doing anything useful and he’s still wrapped in the blanket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s not forbidden, either, though. Castiel had told him the first time they were in here that he can use the blanket if he’s cold. It’s just Dean who thinks he shouldn’t be allowed, because a blanket this soft and expensive shouldn’t be defiled by omega scent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nest,” Gabriel confirms and strolls into the room, curiously looking in every corner. “You know, omega pillow fort kinda thing to cuddle up and relax when needed? No? Not ringing a bell? Oy. This society, I swear. No idea how any omega survives it. Well, I guess most of them don’t. Not for very long, anyway. Hmm, an armchair and a blanket are better than nothing. Though you should ask Cassie about giving you enough stuff for a real nest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean draws the blanket faster around himself, even though he probably should fold it back up instead. But the warm cloud makes him feel safe. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oy.” Gabriel rubs his forehead and comes around to look out of the window. “Nice view.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean has the sudden insight that it’s not just a view. He was out there today. He can see the path they took towards the forest. He was walking there just this morning. The thought throws him, because holy fuck, he was actually out there. Like, for real.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel turns back around, perching on the window sill and looking at Dean. Dean swallows against the impulse to either hide to shield himself from view or to slide from his huddle into good posture because he’s been caught slacking off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though of course, Gabriel is an omega. He can’t tell him to kneel or give him orders or punish him if he doesn’t obey. At the most, he can blab to Cas, and Cas has actually caught Dean sleeping in this chair before and nothing happened then, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like sitting here, right? All wrapped up in the blanket?” Gabriel picks their conversation back up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean tries to decide whether it’s a trick question, but doesn’t really see where the trick in it could be, other than that Dean is admitting that being comfortable is nice and that the Alpha allows it. So he nods hesitantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s like, possibly your favorite place to be, all cuddly and out of sight?” When Dean stares at him, Gabriel holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Dude, no judgement. I have a rather extensive nest at home. Wait, I can show you a picture!” He pulls a smartphone out of his back pocket and clicks around on it for a bit before holding it out to Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean very carefully takes the phone. It shouldn’t surprise him, maybe, that Gabriel has a phone. Not with everything else that he’s learned about Balthazar and Gabriel today. But it still seems surreal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The photo on the screen shows what’s basically a mountain of pillows and several fluffy blankets. Is there a mattress underneath? A bed? A couch? Dean can’t even tell. Every color of the rainbow is represented and there’s even a canopy, giving the whole set-up an air of seclusion and privacy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bal’s not allowed in unless I specifically invite him. No one is. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>nest. There’s a stash of candy at the back there in case I get hungry, and fuck,” Gabriel sighs. “I miss curling up in there. Especially on this trip. This country lacks everything that makes life worth living.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It looks - cozy?” Dean makes it a question and holds the phone back out to the other omega. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really haven’t heard of nests?” Gabriel asks. He casts one last longing look at the photo before pocketing the phone again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you have obviously discovered that it’s a thing omegas need.” Gabriel gestures up and down the armchair. “Like, a private place to be alone and comfy and let your mind rest. I mean, I guess if you had pups, it would also be a place to share with them and cuddle them and stuff.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But not with your Alpha?” Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel shrugs. “Sometimes. Mostly directly before or after heat. When his scent comforts me. Though only for cuddling. No bodily fluids on my pillows, thank you very much.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And he suffers that?” Dean asks with a frown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He better,” Gabriel growls. Then he sighs. “Though I get what you mean. There are a lot of Alphas that limit access to the nest as a motivation for their omegas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Getting to be in the nest is a reward for good behaviour,” Dean understands. That makes more sense to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Gabriel confirms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. “They do that here, too. I mean, not with nests. But with food and stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cassie, too?” Gabriel immediately implores. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Gabriel nods grimly. “Is he doing anything else stupid that I should know about? Cause even if it takes time to find other accommodations for you, I can sic Bal on Cassie at any time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t even have any idea what Gabriel would see as </span>
  <em>
    <span>something stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span> or whatever the hell Balthazar could do about it if that was the case, but either way, he shakes his head. “Cas is nice,” he says quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel nods, more contemplative and less suspicious than he had been in the kitchen earlier. Like he’s more inclined to believe Dean now. “Kinda was hoping that was the way he’d turn out. It was a bit of a toss up for a while there, what with Naomi and Mikey as his role models. Could have gone either way. But he came through when I needed him. So there’s that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s his chance to ask what he’d been curious about ever since the possibility occurred to him. “So he really helped you escape? When you were supposed to become a mare?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even though his posture stays relaxed, Gabriel’s scent turns sharp, like unpleasant memories are coming up. “I almost didn’t ask. He was trying hard to fit in, back then. To be the Alpha our Mom wanted him to be. The Alpha Mikey and Luci had already become. I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t rat me out. But I saw the way he looked at the assholes whenever they grabbed one of the pets and, well, I took my chances that he didn’t want anything like that for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hunches at the mention of Master Michael and Master Lucifer and the pets they had before him, drawing his legs closer and making himself smaller automatically. There’s a spike of jealousy that he immediately hates himself for, but mostly it’s just dread that comes up. The early times at the manor had been the worst. The first few months of breaking him in. There were days he could hardly walk for pain and they had to drag him to the bed by his hair for the next round.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel’s face has turned pitying. “Guess you would know about how it feels when those fuckers grab you, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs, eyes on his knees. Pets serve their purpose just like any other omega. They have to be broken in to be good at it, also like any other omega. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s it with Cassie? Does it feel any better with him?” Gabriel asks gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” The question throws Dean enough that the phantom pain of those first few dozen fucks, when his body was fighting the intruders and hadn’t yet learned to relax into what his masters were doing, disappears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sex. With Cassie. How does that feel?” Gabriel repeats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head, bewildered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look,” Gabriel rubs a hand over his face and blows out some air through his mouth. “Luci and Mikey were never - delicate. They grabbed the pets wherever they found them and used them right there. Definitely could see it in the omegas’ faces, that all the assholes ever did was cause pain. But Cassie never did that. The only interaction I’ve ever seen between him and the pets was him giving them some of his birthday chocolates when none of the other Alphas was near to scold him.” Gabriel chuckles. “Boy, did I want him to give those chocolates to me instead of them. But I’m guessing that was the only nice thing anyone ever did for them, so I guess they needed it more than me. Anyway, I’m not super keen on knowing details about my brother’s sex life, but seeing how he reacted back then and seeing how you’re wearing clothes and sitting at the table and all, I’m guessing he’s the one brother who can be taught.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Taught what?” Dean asks because he’s so not following. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About sex,” Gabriel repeats impatiently. “About how to make it feel good for the omega. Because believe it or not, sex is not actually supposed to hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That shuts Dean up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Gabriel chuckles joylessly. “I thought so. Never had it not hurt when an Alpha took you, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head slowly. “Isn’t that just how it is? I mean, they’re kinda…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Violent?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Big</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Also violent,” Dean admits. “Not Cas,” he adds immediately. “Cas hasn’t - he doesn’t want me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Gabriel break out in laughter. “Ahahaha, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t want</span>
  </em>
  <span> you? Ahahahaha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s got no idea how to react to that. Castiel has told Dean that more than once, hasn’t he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude, my brother’s whole being wants to meld with you. Body and soul and scent and everything, if I’m not mistaken. Though I can’t tell you whether he’s aware of it or has any idea what to do about it,” Gabriel sobers up. “He might not. That whole scenting thing has always thrown him off. He tends to overanalyze instead of going with the flow. So, he hasn’t, you know?” Gabriel makes an explicit gesture to show what he means. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm, no. He doesn’t want me as a pet, he’s said so several times,” Dean repeats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel’s expression lightens up like something got cleared up suddenly. “Is that why you think he doesn’t want to do the dirty with you? Cause he said he doesn’t want you as a pet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude, whole different thing! Like, Bal wouldn’t want me as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span>, either, cause thank the fucking Lord that’s not the way he rolls, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have the hottest, most gymnastic sex you’ve ever seen.” Gabriel wiggles his eyebrows. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>heard of hot sex at least, haven’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean growls at the mocking tone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Gabriel holds his hands up. “Could be that my asshole brothers only ever watched the kind of porn where the omegas scream in pain. Seeing how I’m utterly sure they had no fucking clue how to make an omega scream in pleasure. Could have been that they didn’t want to see unattainable goals in their porn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Dean snort. “Honestly don’t think they cared much either way with their porn as long as they got off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you ever? Get off outside of heat, I mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m taking that as a No,” Gabriel determines. “Well, I can tell you that it’s not an unattainable goal when the Alpha is halfway decent and cares about your pleasure as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But getting fucked hurts. Outside of heat.” And Dean’s not really one to get off on pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t have to,” Gabriel stubbornly shakes his head. “Just gotta make sure you’re aroused. Have enough slick to - well, slick the way. And I promise you, if it feels good enough, your muscles will relax and you can take a knot without it hurting at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That frankly sounds doubtful to Dean. “If you say so,” he shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel smirks. “Dude, I’ve tried it out just tonight. And does it look like I can’t sit on hard surfaces?” He wriggles his ass on the stone surface of the window sill. “Seriously, when it’s fun, nothing hurts, nothing rips, there are no bruises or tears. You can help it along with stretching yourself out beforehand, too, if you have a hard time relaxing in the moment because you already expect pain. If you’re nice and relaxed, you might feel a little sore after, but like, more of a fond memory than active pain. I mean, make sure Cassie knows that he has to stay still until his knot’s gone down. Ripping that out </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> tear shit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s intimately aware of that fact. “Pretty sure every Alpha knows that one.” Some just don’t give a fuck. Though really, this one can lead to needing stitches and healing time, so whenever Master Lucifer had had one of his moods and had done that, Master Michael bitched him out after. Mostly because it meant Dean was out of commission for a while, but still. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel shrugs. “Cassie might have tried to avoid all knowledge. For the fact that he’s really smart, he’s also stupid like that sometimes. So better make sure to tell him. You got any idea what else to tell him to make sure he makes you feel good? Like, where and how to touch you and stuff?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umm.” The only idea Dean has is that he wants this conversation to be over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ever try making yourself feel good? Fingering yourself or jerking off?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes almost bulge out of his head before he quickly shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel promptly sneezes. “Jesus Christ, that question scared the bejeezus out of you. What did my brothers do to you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean very much does not want to answer that. So he just shakes his head again. “‘S not allowed. Touching yourself. Ever.” He tries to make his voice firm, but it comes out shaky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess they made that one a scary rule because they were afraid you might accidentally figure out that you like your hand better than my brothers’ dicks,” Gabriel growls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean opens his mouth to answer but closes it again because he notices that he doesn’t actually have a good answer. “‘S a universal rule because pets are there for the pleasure of their masters, not their own?” he tries out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, bullshit,” Gabriel says. “Also, pretty sure you’re not a pet anymore, so it’s not like pet rules even apply to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that at least gives Dean enough frustration to steady his voice again. “It’s been a week. Since your brothers died,” he points out, because really everyone seems to forget that. “I have no fucking idea what I am or what rules apply.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay, point. I guess you and Cassie still have a few talks ahead of you there. And to be honest, from what I’m seeing, you two are doing well,” Gabriel admits. “I was prepared for much worse when I saw you with him. It’s just - I didn’t lose my sense of smell as a pup. I can smell the two of you. And I remember me and Bal and that did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>take a week before we ended up between the sheets.” His scent blossoms sweetly at the memory, his smile softer and less like a smirk for once. “So yeah, I’m voting for having that talk about sex sooner rather than later. Unless you want me to make Bal talk to him? I can do that, too. He’s gonna have a lot of good pointers for Cassie. Cause I gotta tell you, he’s a natural. He takes a lot of pride in finding new ways he can make me come.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now the smile is back to a smirk and that was not information that Dean really needed to know. He grimaces, though he’s got to admit that it also makes him kind of curious. Because Alphas come every time they fuck an omega, that’s a given. And Dean’s pretty sure that they definitely enjoy it. But omegas? They bear whatever is happening and are glad when they’re allowed to fall asleep after. “We’re still talking outside of heat here, right?” Dean asks suspiciously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel’s face becomes pitying again. “Oh my sweet summer pup, do you really think omegas only orgasm during heat?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean growls at that, because he doesn’t like being called a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pup</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But Gabriel’s point unfortunately stands. “‘S not even that much fun during heat,” he grumbles. “I mean, ‘s good because it makes the pain retreat for a bit and when it’s over that means some rest and maybe even some sleep, but…” He shrugs again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel gapes at him. “Dean-o, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>how it should go. It should feel brilliant and ecstatic during heat. If you’re in that much pain, you definitely waited too long to get fucked in the first place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like I have any influence on that,” Dean huffs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude! First tingle of heat, you go to your Alpha and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck me right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And the way you smell during heat, they should be jumping at your command.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head because Gabriel obviously has no idea about how Dean’s life worked so far. “Yeah, whatever,” he says dismissively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I actually do not know how that would work with Cassie,” Gabriel contemplates. “Seeing how he can’t smell your pheromones.” He stops himself. “You know about that, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, he told me,” Dean nods. “And he smells arousal just fine, so I don’t think that would be the problem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only Gabriel’s shit-eating grin that clues him in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up,” he grumbles and can feel the heat rising to his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Dean-o, did you just admit that you like-like my little brother?” Gabriel grins. “The way this is going, you’ll come to love our fucked up family after all. Now that only Cassie and I are left, it’s gonna be </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much easier to love us, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean groans and hides his face behind his knees because he likes Cas, of course he likes Cas. And he knew that his body is reacting to the Alpha in a way that it doesn’t to other Alphas. The scent compatibility and all. But the way Gabriel makes that sound? Like they’re back in middle school and Dean’s got a crush on his brother? That is so not Dean’s reality and he wants to tell Gabriel that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, there’s the tingle and pull in Dean’s stomach that explodes into a thousand butterflies every time the Alpha shows any attraction to Dean at all, and - oh God, Gabriel is right, isn’t he? Dean’s falling for the Alpha. Hard. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean follows Gabriel back from the guest room - after carefully re-folding the blanket - when Gabriel decides that the Alphas are probably by now wondering whether they are plotting their demise. Dean rolls his eyes, but somewhere over the awkward conversation and sex tips they have found a sort of camaraderie between each other that Dean is entirely unused to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Talking to other omegas was as taboo for him as, well, basically everything else that wasn’t serving his masters. Not that any omega in the manor would have dared to talk about topics like how to make sex with Alphas better. The masters were unfailable, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes the thoughts out of his head when there are voices from the office instead of the living room. The two Alphas here provide a different set of challenges than the masters at the manor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not plan on keeping either building, but if you want to look at them?” Castiel asks dubiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Buildings?” Gabriel immediately inserts himself in the conversation, not hesitating on the doorstep like Dean does, but stomping into the office without any care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re trying to figure out which part of the inheritance could go to you,” Castiel explains. “I have no overview over the monetary assets yet, but the club and the manor are the two buildings that I know exist. I was originally planning to sell both of them, but if you want to have a look at them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, the infamous club,” Gabriel wrinkles his nose. “I’ve read the articles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Articles?” Dean asks with a frown and finally also comes a step closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know them?” Gabriel asks back. “The ‘Heaven &amp; Hell’ was kinda notorious for providing its special kind of Alpha entertainment. Guess Mikey and Luci were pretty proud of every article in a progressive newspaper condemning the club.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Condemning?” Dean asks. “Thought all Alphas loved the club.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, the civil rights movement doesn’t. I mean, the club made the papers in Europe more than once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Castiel asks. “I haven’t heard that much about this, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Told you you should read something that’s written outside of your home state every so often,” Gabriel grumbles. “Have you even checked the rate at which that club goes through omegas? Cause that featured prominently in all articles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel frowns. “Those are not numbers Crowley provided me with. I will have to ask him about it when I call him later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean had almost forgotten about that again already. “Thank you, Alpha,” he says quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Gabriel raises an eyebrow at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wants to make sure the omegas get enough food,” Dean provides an explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And medical attention,” Castiel sighs. “The more I hear about the club, the more I fear that just rest will not be enough to heal all injuries that may have occurred.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s pretty sure that is true, though he shudders at the thought of what kind of doctor will agree to visit the club. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do we have names for doctors?” Gabriel turns to his mate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am unsure, mon amour,” Balthazar frowns. “But I can inquire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, please,” Gabriel nods and turns back to Cas while Balthazar whips his phone out of his pocket and starts typing. “I sprained my ankle, the second day we were here in this fucking country. I can now tell you with utter certainty that you don’t want a doctor who isn’t sympathetic to the cause anywhere near an omega. Their assessment of whether and how an injury needs to be treated on an omega is not gonna make you happy. If they don’t outright refuse to treat omegas in the first place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is - “ Cas starts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Outrageous? Infuriating?” Gabriel provides. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Normal,” Dean shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Dean-o! It’s not normal! Or it shouldn’t be, anyway. Omegas deserve to have their injuries treated the same way Alphas do. And with the same amount of painkillers applied.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Dean chuckle bitterly. “Where would be the fun in that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean.” Dean only notices how dark and sad Castiel’s scent has gotten when he is suddenly in Dean’s space. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And shit, Dean hadn’t actually wanted that. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I just - don’t really have good experiences with doctors.” In his experience, they’re much more likely to tie him down before stitching him up than giving him pain killers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel grasps his hand, squeezing it somewhat helplessly. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m getting the feeling that no, it very much isn’t,” Castiel sighs. “I should have taught myself about these issues instead of ignoring them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, Cassie is realizing his privilege. It would be kinda sweet if it wasn’t also fucked up,” Gabriel bites. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chéri,” Balthazar chides softly. “He is trying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since when are you on his side?” Gabriel scoffs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since he turned out decent.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmpf,” Gabriel grumbles. “Guess that’s true. As long as you know that it is a fucking privilege not to have to care, Cassie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that,” Castiel nods. “And I am trying to change what I can. I just - I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What do I do with the omegas in the club’s property for example? I can make sure they have food, but if we all agree that the club shouldn’t be allowed to open again, what do I do with them in the long run? According to Dean, if they get sold again, there is a high probability that their lives will get even worse. I don’t want that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar shrugs. “You could open the club yourself and make sure everyone is treated well. Your house, your rules, non?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cassie as a club owner?” Gabriel laughs. “No way, Bal. That’s much more our style.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The comment brings all of them up short, a silence falling on the room that feels awkward at first, but then turns contemplative.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Castiel says after a while. “I could make an appointment with Crowley for us to go visit the space? You could take a look at it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar looks at Gabriel, who wrinkles his nose. “Settling down here of all places sounds insane. Though I’m guessing we can look at it. See whether we can help you guys set something up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh,” Castiel looks less than enthused. Dean’s gotta admit that he feels the same. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, just because you own the damn thing, doesn’t mean you gotta be the boss. You can always hire someone,” Gabriel points out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But why would I want to provide entertainment to Alphas in the first place? Even if I’m the owner and can put rules in place about how they have to treat the club omegas, they’re still gonna expect…” Castiel breaks off with a growl. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then do not cater to those Alphas,” Balthazar shrugs laconically. “Cater to la résistance.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stares at Balthazar with wide eyes and an open mouth. “I write </span>
  <em>
    <span>books</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That’s what I’m good at. Not revolutions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Balthazar snort. “You can start small, yes? Just change one club, do not try to overthrow the government without French help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Gabriel cackle. “Well, the French are the best at revolutions, there’s no arguing with that.” When Castiel just keeps staring and shaking his head, Gabriel sobers. He takes a step closer to Cas like he wants to pat him on the shoulder, but then thinks better of it. “Look, Cassie, it’s okay. Our brothers chose to be conservative asshats. I had to become the family rebel to even survive. You decided that you rather wanted to stay out of the fight. Took me a while to accept it, but that’s okay. It’s just who you are. You don’t have to change.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gabriel, I just -,” Castiel rubs his forehead. “I never had anything substantial to add in our family. No one was going to change their mind or their way just because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>disagreed. All I could do after you were gone was get out of there and try to do better on my own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One should not be silent in the face of oppression,” Balthazar frowns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel puts a hand on his mate’s shoulder. “Let him be, Bal. He’s doing what he can and he’s already said he’s trying to learn more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar frowns at that, but he shrugs his shoulders. “Your wish is my command, chéri.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be obtuse,” Castiel sighs. “I just never wanted to abuse anyone, so I rather chose to live alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel nods. “I know. But you said it yourself, right now, it’s not enough anymore. Not when the assholes landed you smackdab back in the middle of everything. Point in case.” He gestures towards Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m trying to do right by him,” Castiel growls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No need to get defensive. I believe you, brother,” Gabriel soothes him, though he looks absolutely unperturbed at being growled at. “Dean’s got nothing but good things to say about you. Thing is, I’m getting the distinct feeling that there’s a lot of shit about omegas neither of you know. Dean because our asshole brothers taught him that expecting anything at all is too much to ask, and you because you never bothered to find out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Things like what?” Castiel asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel throws a glance at Dean before shrugging. “Dean can tell you later what we talked about today. There are needs omegas have that differ from Alphas. And there are needs that are very much the same. You should try figuring out both of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel looks more pensive and less offended than Dean would have expected. “Can you give me a place to start looking if I want to learn?” he asks quietly. “Because if I start randomly googling about omega needs, I’m reasonably sure the results won’t be helpful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Gabriel sighs. “ Guess you’re right about that one. I can send you a few links if you give me your contact info. Then I can send you that info about a good doctor, too, once we’ve tracked someone down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So they exchange email addresses and phone numbers, and Balthazar doesn’t interfere once because Gabriel’s got his own accounts set up and that’s yet another thing that blows Dean’s mind. An omega whose connections to the outside world do not get screened by the Alpha who owns him. It’s not a thing Dean’s ever heard of. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Balthazar gently says, “We have to get going, chéri. I have a call scheduled with Pierre in half an hour. We need to get back to the motel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gabriel sighs and nods, “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Goodbyes are awkward, even with the plans to meet up again to visit the manor and the club. There is a moment where both Gabriel and Castiel stand there looking at each other, contemplating to hug each other probably, but then Gabriel stuffs his hands in his pockets and Castiel takes a step back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar shrugs at the uncomfortable display and mutters something that Dean is pretty sure is a disparaging remark about Americans. And then the couple gets into their rental car and drives off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The quiet is overwhelming in the aftermath of the visit. Where Charlie was a whirlwind passing through, this is more like a tornado has gone through the house and left them shaken. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think I feel up for cooking tonight anymore.” Castiel still stares at where the car disappeared, his voice exhausted. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s okay, Alpha. I can make the tacos,” Dean answers. He’s never made them before, but he has a recipe to follow, so he thinks he can manage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or we could just order pizza,” the Alpha proposes. “I feel like pizza and beer might help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Dean says, an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. “Okay, Alpha.” He bites his lip. “I really can do stuff, though. You don’t always have to supervise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha turns back to Dean, irritation piercing his scent. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>supervising you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes a step backwards, lowering his eyes. “I’m sorry, Alpha. You’re helping. I know that you’re helping.” It’s just that this way Dean will never be able to prove that he can actually be trusted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Do you want to cook tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve said that it would be my task, right?” Dean answers hesitantly. “I want to fulfill my tasks and I want to do it well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes the Alpha deflate even more. He leans against the door frame like it’s too much to keep himself upright. “Dean, we… we’ve set this task when I was still trying to make up rules and tasks to conform to society. But we’ve already figured out that that does not work for us. Or for me, anyway. I don’t want to force you to do anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cooking is not exactly a punishment for me,” Dean points out cautiously. “Also, I kinda like being useful.” That’s probably an understatement, seeing how much slimy disgust he feels at himself when he’s not good for anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would make you feel better to cook than if we ordered in?” Castiel parses what Dean is trying to say. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Alpha,” Dean nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it is more work for you,” Castiel points out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it’s work I like,” Dean negotiates. “And if it turns out well, good food is very enjoyable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles a little at that. “I guess you’re right about that. Are you sure that you want to cook? It really is no problem to order in. And you’d get to choose whatever pizza you want, any toppings you like. In case you were worrying about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean actually wasn’t. He was pretty much assuming he’d get pizza, too, and even if the Alpha chose the toppings, Dean would have been happy to go with whatever Castiel likes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like that, too, sometime,” he smiles. “‘S been a while since I got any of the actual pizza and not just leftover crust.” Dean only notices his mistake when the Alpha’s scent turns dark. “No, I didn’t mean to -,” he sighs, frustrated with himself. “‘S okay, really. Pizza crust days weren’t the worst by far.” That does not make anything better if the scowl on the Alpha’s face is anything to go by. “I’m sorry,” Dean gives up. “I wish…” He breaks off with a shake of his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But of course it’s too late. “You wish?” Castiel asks with a raised eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sighs and stares after the car where it’s disappeared in the distance. “That I wouldn’t always bring so much darkness into your home. I try not to, but I can’t seem to help it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shakes his head and comes over to stand next to Dean, their shoulders brushing as they’re looking out into the landscape. “It’s like Gabriel said. It was high time that I took notice of the darkness. It’s the only way something can be done about it.” He nods determinedly. “On that note - do you want to come with?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where to?” Dean frowns.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The manor and the club? When I show them to Gabriel and Balthazar.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh,” Dean didn’t expect that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand if you never want to see either of the places again. But you’ve been at the club and you’ve lived in the house. And I trust you much more when it comes to telling the truth about either place than I trust Crowley or any of the Alpha employees. And the omegas will probably also talk to you much more honestly than they will to the rest of us. They will just tell Balthazar and me whatever they think we want to hear because we’re Alphas. And Gabriel...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... can be overwhelming,” Dean remarks drily because he’s had that experience already. “Why would you want to talk to the omegas, though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll call Crowley next to give him instructions on how to treat them. But you said that we need to check, right? So what better way than to ask them directly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d trust their word?” Dean asks, stunned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel nods tiredly. “Yes, of course I would. I will. Think about it? Whether you want to come with?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Castiel smiles. “Then I shall go deal with Crowley. Are you sure you want to cook tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would like to,” Dean nods. “If it’s okay for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Do you think you can deal with the delivery, too? They should be showing up any minute. All you have to do is give them some tip money and accept the package.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grimaces. Cooking is one thing, dealing with humans on his own is quite another. “Do I have to let them touch me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Of course not! If they try anything like that, please call me immediately. That would be quite unacceptable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dean nods, not necessarily at ease, but feeling a little better about it. It already helps when he knows that he’s allowed to move away. “I can do that, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Castiel asks, now dubious where before he obviously hadn’t seen a problem.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“House omegas deal with this all the time, right?” Dean asks. “So I gotta learn.” Though really, he has had so many human interactions in the past few days that he feels not so much like he’s learning but more like he has been thrown into a pool of water without knowing how to swim and is desperately struggling to keep his head above water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel blinks somewhat forlornly. “I’m sorry. There are so many things that are new to you that I don’t even think about. It must be exhausting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs because it’s true, but also, he’s still keeping his head above water. "Pretty sure today did not go how you expected, either. I wanna help when I can."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas smiles at him gratefully. “Thank you, Dean. I appreciate it a lot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes warmth bloom in Dean again. Appreciation is still a very new feeling to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel goes to the small table by the door where he keeps the keys and his wallet. He takes out a bill. "Give this to them."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay," Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're sure you want to do this?" Castiel asks again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," Dean nods. "I can do this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay," the Alpha accepts that. "I shall go talk to Crowley then." He suddenly looks ten times more tired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Or you could leave it until tomorrow?" Dean proposes because he doesn’t like seeing the Alpha so exhausted. "You could rest while I care for our dinner."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And have a group of people starve for another day because my emotions exhausted me? No, Dean, I cannot have that on my conscience. I will suffer Crowley and try to think through everything that's happened today when there is nothing else to take care of."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Cas,” Dean says quietly because it’s pretty goddamn awesome that even though he’s tired Cas would still do what it takes to make the lives of some omegas that he doesn’t even personally know better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel smiles and squeezes Dean’s shoulder for a moment before sighing again and turning around with a muttered, “Into battle then.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stays in the living room where he’s close to the entrance and will definitely not miss the doorbell. He remembers that he hadn’t heard it back when he fell asleep in the guestroom. And that can’t happen right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Experimentally, he sits down on the edge of the couch. Maybe it’s easier to try this out on his own when Cas is not there to sit beside him. Because even though he knows that Cas has invited him to this couch several times over the past days, has even sat him down on it when Dean was stuck in a panic spiral, somehow this still feels different than the bench outside. Maybe because </span>
  <em>
    <span>outside </span>
  </em>
  <span>is such a deviation from the norm for Dean anyway that additional strangeness hardly registers while kneeling next to a couch, not being allowed up, is very much within his daily experience, so the idea of sitting next to the Alpha seems all the more preposterous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a nice couch. Soft. Smooth fabric, though not as smooth as leather. Dean doesn’t like it as much as the armchair, but then, he likes very few places as much as the armchair. Maybe Gabriel has a point with the whole nest thing. Because here on the couch Dean thinks about the Alpha next to him, and that’s a thought that produces warring feelings inside him. The armchair on the other hand, that only seats one person. When Dean’s curled up there, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for that short moment in time anyway. So yeah, maybe that makes a difference. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It still doesn’t make any sense to Dean, though, why an Alpha would buy stuff for an omega, just so that the omega will put it in a location where he doesn't want the Alpha to be. Gabriel said something about it being an omega need and Dean can see how it might take off some mental strain to be allowed to feel safe and warm surrounded by only soft things every now and then, sure that no demands will be placed for a while. But what is the advantage for the Alpha? They just lose access to their omega for that time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s as far as Dean gets in his thoughts because then the doorbell rings. Dean actually jumps at the noise, even though he was sitting here waiting for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hurries to get up, grabbing the bill that Cas put on the side-table so hard that it crumples in his hand. His heart rate goes through the roof when he actually has his hand on the door knob. Opening the door to the outside, definitely also not a thing at the manor. Handling an interaction with the outside world, however small and even if he’d tried to be helpful with it, that would have been a swift way into the dark. Dean shudders, but with a deep breath opens the door. He doesn’t manage to look up at the delivery person, though, keeps his eyes trained on the doorstep instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh, delivery for Novak?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean opens his mouth, tries to answer, but not much more than a rasping sound makes it out of his throat. Fuck, he’d managed to talk to Charlie and Gabriel just fine. But they were Cas’ friend and Cas’ brother and the Alpha had been there initially. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel Novak?” The delivery guy says, prompting Dean. He sounds somewhat impatient, but also young and not particularly frightening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean manages a quick glance up through his lashes. The delivery guy is more of a delivery boy, probably not even old enough to buy alcohol. He’s also lanky and a good head shorter than Dean. He looks harried and indeed not very dangerous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Dean manages to nod. “‘S my Alpha,” he mumbles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” the delivery guy nods. “I’m gonna put this on the ground so you can take it, alright?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods gratefully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna make a note that an omega took the delivery and that that’s why there’s no signature. So make sure the Alpha gets his package or you’ll be in trouble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods again. He guesses it’s pretty tempting in many houses to steal the food delivery and pretend it never arrived. Instead of commenting on it, he just thrusts out his hand with the crumpled bill. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a moment of surprise, but then the delivery guy takes the bill. “Tell Alpha Novak thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods again, glad that the guy made sure to only touch the bill and not Dean’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then. Have a good day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The delivery guy turns and makes his way back to his car before Dean can manage the words to answer. Not that he’s sure the guy wanted an answer. Dean picks up the box with their groceries and brings it inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes him all the way to the kitchen to realize that he’s actually made it through this encounter without a hitch. He smiles, sudden pride warming his chest, even though it also feels like he should be ashamed of feeling pride about something this small. Something that every pup in middle school would manage without a blink. But pups in middle school are not pets and they haven’t spent the last decade and some the way he has. He takes a deep breath and decides to allow himself to be happy that this went well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He unpacks the box and puts everything that needs to be cooled in the fridge. Which leaves the actual cooking part. Dean’s not that leery about the actual cooking, but there is the fact that he needs the recipe. Which the Alpha had looked up online. Which means Dean needs to brave the tablet next if he doesn’t want to ask the Alpha for help. And he really doesn’t want to ask the Alpha for help. He wants to be able to do this on his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stares at the tablet distrustfully before picking it up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t explode on me now,” he grumbles as he taps the button that turns it on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It blinks to life without exploding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good girl,” Dean pets it carefully. “Now, let’s see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers that he has to find the browser and after a moment of looking over the icons on the screen he even remembers which one he has to tap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ha!" He exclaims while a website opens, the same relief that he got at the manor when he remembered a new rule on first try flooding him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The page that opens is the search engine and Dean types the name of the recipe site. It gives him a little anxiety to actually click on the resulting link but Castiel said that he can't accidentally purchase anything, so Dean trusts that. Not that he has much other choice, unless he wants to admit defeat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The recipe site opens without trouble. Dean lets out a breath. So far, so good. This site has a search bar as well and he types in ‘salmon tacos’. Several recipes show up, but the top one has the most stars and Dean is pretty sure that it is the one the Alpha had found in the morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sense of triumph almost makes him giddy. He beat the hell out of this new technology, and he hadn’t needed the Alpha to help. Success! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now for the easy part,” he grins and puts the tablet on the kitchen island to actually start cooking. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What song is that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean flinches, taken by surprise by the Alpha’s approach. It doesn’t take him more than a few heartbeats to relax, though. He’s in way too good a mood from the fact that the tacos actually seem to be coming together. “Hey, Alpha,” he greets cheerily. Then the question catches up with him. “What song?” he frowns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were humming under your breath,” Castiel smiles. “You didn’t notice?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh, no,” Dean says embarrassedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. It went something like this.” The Alpha hums a few hesitant notes. “I’m sorry, I’m bad at this,” he apologizes. “Music is not my forte.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s attempt wasn’t necessarily in tune, but it was enough for Dean to pick up the melody. He hums the next few notes, pauses, then starts over, the words of the song coming back to him, now that he’s thinking about it. “Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face and stars fill my dream, I'm a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been…” He peters off, the next line eluding him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a beautiful singing voice,” Castiel praises, looking at Dean with soft eyes. “Do you remember the name of the song?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your voice gets rougher with every year, pet. Maybe if I didn’t have to punish you so much, your voice could be used for something else than screaming yourself hoarse, but alas...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks against Master Michael’s voice in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean? Did I say something wrong?” Cas is suddenly in Dean’s space. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks again before nodding. He’s okay. He thinks anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S just - ‘s not the kind of thing Master Michael or Master Lucifer would say about my voice.” It comes out small. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stares at him, his frown deep, like he wants to understand but doesn't.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't actually remember the title," Dean hurries on because he wants his good mood back and not be dragged into memories of pain. "Pretty sure the band's Zepp, though."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Zepp?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Led Zeppelin."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I know them. They’re from the Seventies, right? Wait, let me...” Castiel pulls his phone out of his pocket and clicks around on it. “Can you sing again?” he asks and hits one more button before holding the phone towards Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks at the phone, then back at the Alpha. But that was an order. Or a request. Whatever. His voice stumbling and quiet, he repeats the few lines he remembers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can see the page of the search engine changing, several links with little pictures popping up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel takes the phone back. “Ah, here. The song is called Kashmir and it is indeed by Led Zeppelin.” He clicks one of the links and Dean jumps when suddenly there’s noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, not noise. The opening riff of the song. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” Dean wonders. “That’s cool.” He didn’t know that the phone could find songs.   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first few lines follow the opening and then it goes on with ‘To sit with elders of the gentle race / This world has seldom seen / They talk of days for which they sit and wait / All will be revealed’ and by the second half Dean mouths the words with the song because he remembers them. He can feel the smile spread over his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s eyes are on him, a smile spreading over his face, too. “I should have shown you that the app with the cat videos doesn’t have only cat videos. There is also a lot of music. You can use the tablet to find any song you want to listen to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Dean’s eyes turn wide. “Like, anything at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty much,” Castiel nods. “As long as the app has it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you won’t mind? I mean, Master Michael said rock was the music of the devil and Master Lucifer…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... did his best to pretend he was the devil, I know,” Castiel sighs. “I don’t mind rock, Dean. Or any other music that you find enjoyable. Do you want me to find a classic rock playlist to listen to while we eat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really don’t mind? I mean, I know you like the quiet and with the visitors it was loud already all afternoon.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel smiles at him. “It’s worth it just for the expression on your face alone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sputters, but he has no answer, so he just mumbles, “Thank you, Alpha,” and knows that he’s blushing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel finds a playlist on the tablet and since Dean doesn’t need to look at the recipe anymore, Cas puts it on the counter, old music videos playing to the beat of the songs. It’s not the best sound quality, but Dean remembers so many more songs than he expected, humming along and singing a few words here and there. It gives him a spark of joy every time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He debates it for a moment, but then he turns to Castiel. “I think I loved singing, once upon a time. And I think I still like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Dean shakes his head. “Thanks for helping me discover it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That turns the Alpha’s scent so incredibly sweet that it overpowers even the smell of the food. Dean’s feet bring him closer to the Alpha to inhale the scent before he is even consciously aware of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Cas,” Dean repeats quietly when he’s right in the Alpha’s space. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s smile is soft and warm. “If you want to…?” he asks and lays his head to the side a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hesitates for all of a heartbeat before stepping close. He keeps his hands by his sides, wants to lean in without touching, but the Alpha grasps his hands and puts them on his waist. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this okay?” Castiel asks and puts his own hands around Dean’s back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And oh, that’s a hug. “Hugs are nice,” Dean confirms. Because they are and he’s getting utterly spoiled, having had so many hugs and nice touches in the past few days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t resist, and after a long inhale leans forward and lays a tiny peck on Cas’ scent gland. Not even enough to taste him, really, just a tiny touch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, it makes Cas gasp. By the way he draws Dean closer, this time it’s clear that he liked it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes Dean’s heart patter a rhythm that sounds suspiciously like those songs about love. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The salmon tacos turn out just as the recipe advertised. They don’t look as pretty, there’s a lot of moisture and it makes them messy, but they smell really good. Better than Dean expected fish to smell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha helps setting the table while Dean plates the food - and is the Alpha actually nodding his head along with the music? Yep, he definitely is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grins because it’s been such a long day and they’re both exhausted, but somehow the Alpha is still in a good mood and so is Dean. At the manor, an exhausting day would have meant low tolerance levels and a fast hand at punishments. Here, it equals - music. The Alpha turns the volume down when they sit down, making it easier to talk, but he doesn’t turn it off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you for making dinner for us,” the Alpha smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs, though he doesn’t really manage to hide his pleased smile. His cooking adventure went well and the Alpha is thanking him for it. That’s a double win in Dean’s book and he doesn’t get those all that often. Still, he mumbles, “Try how it tastes first. Could be horrible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Somehow, I doubt it,” the Alpha answers drily and takes his first taco in hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean follows suit, carefully balancing the taco and trying to figure out how to bite into it without making a big mess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s supposed to drip everywhere, no worries,” Castiel encourages him, having had his attention on Dean more than Dean noticed, apparently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean wrinkles his nose because messes are not a thing he likes and it isn’t even just because messes mean punishment, but there’s no other way to eat this than starting somewhere, so he gets over himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s good. Better than expected, actually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Salmon is nice,” he says, probably sounding as surprised as he is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel grins. “Glad that you like it. Even though this has a bit of rabbit food in it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but it’s not like the main component,” Dean grins back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel snorts and unashamedly licks some of the juices that dripped off his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean gulps, avoiding choking on his bite of taco rather narrowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Have a talk about sex. Have it soon. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Gabriel’s voice is suddenly in his head, sounding stern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Dean can’t. What would he even say? </span>
  <em>
    <span>I hated being fucked at the manor, but I’m also kind of craving your touch, so could you please just fuck me to see whether it is any different and if it is all the better and if I still hate it, at least I’ll be cured of these thoughts? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The groan he feels in his chest must show on his face because Castiel raises an eyebrow at him in question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean opens his mouth to say something, anything that’s not about sex. “I had a brother once.” It’s not what he’d intended to say. Not that he knows what that would be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Castiel tilts his head curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean nods. “He’s -,” Dean has to swallow against the sudden lump in his throat. He’d never expected to talk about Sammy ever again. He carefully puts the rest of his taco back down on his plate. “He’s four years younger than me. He was still a pup when I - you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t seen him since you were - how old were you when you got sold?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks away. “14,” he mumbles. “And yeah, that was the last time I saw him. Always knew that he wasn’t, you know, my brother anymore, from the moment my dad took that money. I’ve always kinda tried not to think about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Gabriel being here brought it back up?” Castiel asks, compassion in his voice and scent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods because it’s easiest. Castiel doesn’t need to know how Dean had stared at the tablet the other day trying to decide whether he wanted to look up his brother. Dean’s stomach still kind of turns at the thought, no matter what answer he would find.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gabriel has always been and will always be my brother,” Castiel says like it’s supposed to mean something about Sam as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, “Pretty sure Master Michael and Master Lucifer didn’t see it the same way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re afraid your brother is an Alpha like them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs, though of course it’s a stab in his heart. “Would be normal, right? Even if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> different, chances are he’s the same as everyone else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Castiel says and then frowns. “Wait. He was what? 10? When you last saw him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you can’t know that he presented Alpha.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s true of course. “Kinda think he did, cause of how different he was from me when we were pups.” Dean shrugs. “Kinda easier to think he’s turned out Alpha, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because if he turned out omega - Dean!” Suddenly Castiel sits up straight, food forgotten. “If he turned out omega he could be in bad circumstances! We need to check up on him! Help him if necessary!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s mouth hangs open. “But -” But there are no words to follow that up. That thought had never occurred to Dean because Dean doesn’t even have the resources to help himself, let alone someone else. But Cas does. Of course Cas does. Assuming that, “How would we even find him if he presented omega? My dad would have sold him to a facility same as he did with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They keep records at the facilities. Do you remember which one it was you were at?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. “Doesn’t make a difference if I remember or not. We weren’t settled anywhere. Sam could have presented anywhere in the States, really. Well, not Hawaii, maybe. Pretty sure dad kept on driving. No way to tell where to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam? That’s your brother’s name?” Castiel asks gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shit. Dean freezes. He hadn’t actually wanted to spill that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay. You can tell me. I’m not gonna do anything without your consent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head abruptly. “‘S not even that. ‘S that…” He swallows hard. It comes out as a whisper when he admits. “I’ve kept it safe in my head for so long. My own name, too. Kinda never expected to say either of them ever again. Messes with me to share it now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.” With the way Cas’ scent goes heavy like rain and November, Dean’s confession makes him incredibly sad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S not your fault.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m the one bringing all of this up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but - it messes with me, yeah. But it’s safe telling you. You’d never use my name against me the way Master Michael und Master Lucifer would have. Or my brother’s name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Predictably, that brings tendrils of smoke and fire back into Castiel’s scent that dry away the sudden downpour from before. He growls lowly under his breath, though he breaks off confused when Dean huffs a short bark of laughter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See. That’s why you’re different. Cause you’re growling and my instinct should be to cower away from you, but all I’m thinking about is that my hands are too sticky to reach out and hold your hand, cause I’m kinda certain that that would make you feel better.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s expression softens immediately, his scent shifting into vanilla goodness. “Well, my hands are sticky, too.” He reaches one out across the table. “We can be gross together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Dean laugh. “Okay, Alpha,” he agrees easily and holds out his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They actually do kind of stick together when Castiel grasps Dean’s hand and it makes both of them laugh again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay, this might be a downside of finger food,” Castiel admits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe we should eat the rest of it and clean ourselves up,” Dean proposes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got a point,” Cas agrees and picks his taco back up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They finish the rest of their meal listening to the music and not breaching any more heavy topics, emotional exhaustion firmly settling over them, stomachs needing the entirety of whatever leftover energy was available to digest. Brains probably digesting the day still as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s okay where Dean is concerned. He’s still not entirely sure why he brought up the subject of his brother in the first place, other than that he was panicking because all the things Gabriel told him were swirling around in his brain. But there’s no way he can figure out tonight how he feels about the prospect of the Alpha </span>
  <em>
    <span>helping </span>
  </em>
  <span>him search for his brother. That thought is so mind-blowing that the only thing he really knows how to do is stuff it into the back closet of his mind, where all things Winchester-related are living, and forget about it for another day. Or decade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you like to watch more of that dessert show?” Castiel asks after they’re done with the dishes. “I fear that I won’t be able to concentrate on any actual plot tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods because he definitely understands that feeling. “The dessert show was fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Thank you for accommodating me." Castiel's smile is relieved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No worries, Alpha," Dean smiles back. It’s amazing and still fucking weird how it doesn't even come up in Castiel's mind that he could just order Dean to watch whatever the fuck he wanted him to watch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas lets himself plonk down on the couch with another relieved sigh, but Dean stops in his tracks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel notices a moment later and follows Dean's gaze to where he's uncertainly eyeing the couch. "Like I said, it's your choice. You're welcome to sit on the couch if you want, but if you prefer kneeling, that’s fine, too. Whichever makes you the most comfortable."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. He knows that. And he also knows what he wants. He thought about this before after all. He even practiced. He groans at himself because who the hell has to practice sitting on a couch? Well, he does apparently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a way, the outside was training, too. Because he sat next to the Alpha on the bench. Hell, he did more than that. He kissed the Alpha today, the way betas do. And he sat at a table with the Alpha, his brother and his brother's mate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still. Kneeling next to the Alpha was Dean’s last bit of familiarity in this bizarro world that he’s been thrown into. He held onto that because  - well, because it was familiar. And because he can feel his training slipping with every hour that he spends in the Alpha’s company. The Alpha may have said that Dean’s changed him, but Dean from a week ago would not believe his eyes if he saw Dean now.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thing is, Dean likes bizarro world. Bizarro world has been good to him so far. And letting go of his training and sitting next to the Alpha will hopefully lead to more cuddling and maybe even more scenting or more kissing. Kneeling is very unlikely to do that. So in that way, he knows his decision. Only...</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chews on his lip. Maybe the Alpha really isn't aware how scent bonds work. How they’re developing and that they’re - well, mutual. Maybe he doesn’t compare his and Dean’s situation to his brother and his brother’s mate because while Gabriel pointed it out to Dean, it probably never came up between the Alphas. They had better things to do than discuss omegas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thing is, Dean knows Gabriel is right. About him, anyway. Dean’s falling for the Alpha, so fast and hard that it makes him dizzy. And that’s not gonna stop, either. Cuddling and scenting and kissing and all the dozens of little niceties the Alpha allows, they’ll all just make it worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So if the Alpha really isn’t aware, if he thinks nothing of this, and then eventually does research and figures it out - every hopeful moment that passes before the other shoe drops will shatter Dean so much more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alpha?" Dean swallows heavily. He really doesn’t want to do this. Has told himself he wouldn’t do this. Only, he’s not sure anymore that he has any other choice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel frowns, leaning towards Dean with attention. "What’s wrong?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It'll - it'll probably make it deepen. Our scent bond. It'll keep forming if you allow me…" Anything really. But Dean can’t get himself to say that so he just vaguely points towards the couch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel's face falls, a grimace that is directed inward as much as it is directed at Dean. "I'm still not sure that I can even form a bond like that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean averts his gaze. "Your brother smelled it, too. I fear that it's real."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha frowns. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear</span>
  </em>
  <span> a bond between us?” Apparently, it takes him too long to come up with an answer, because a moment later, Castiel’s shoulders slump. “I understand. It’s bad enough that the law bound you to me, having your biology do it as well must feel like you have no control at all. Tell me what you need me to change and I will do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that is not what Dean meant. Like, at all. “No,” he shakes his head vehemently. “You don’t have to change anything at all for me. I’m really happy with stuff. I already told you. I want to stay with you.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated that he can’t explain this well enough for the Alpha to understand. “‘S just - a bond goes two ways, Alpha. It’s gonna compel me to be a good omega for you, but it - well, it’s gonna compel you, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean it’s going to compel me to care for you and be nice to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And where’s the difference there to how I feel now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Feelings first, bond second.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean had even thought about it before. Maybe it is true after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that all of the problem you have with this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” Dean answers insecurely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The answer brings a relieved smile to Castiel’s face. “Well, that’s not a problem at all then. I was very much planning on keeping up the caring and being nice to you anyway. Also, Balthazar didn’t seem exactly unhappy being bonded to my brother, did he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So the Alpha did think about that then. “Umm, I guess not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then. I’m still not convinced that this is really a thing, but if it is, let’s just assume that it’s a good thing?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay?” Dean says hesitantly, because assuming this is a good thing doesn’t really help him. In Dean’s experience, good things don’t happen to him. They are always a trick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, Castiel hasn’t betrayed him yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes a deep breath and walks around the living room table to the other side of the couch. He stops when he reaches it and asks, “Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel smiles at him. “Of course, Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Dean sits down. He sits in the same spot he tried earlier in the afternoon, but that immediately feels wrong. There is way too much space between him and the Alpha this way. He was hoping to get to cuddle, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel is watching him, so Dean fidgets a little, but then he moves closer until he’s right at the Alpha’s side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to lean on me?” Castiel asks. “Like you do when you’re kneeling?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, please?” Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel smiles and puts an arm around Dean’s shoulder to pull him close. “Please don’t hesitate to put your feet up on the couch if it’s more comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods and actually does that. It’s not quite kneeling, but it shifts his center of gravity towards Castiel, the Alpha propping him up. That feels better. Right, somehow. Comfortable as fuck, but with Dean getting his balance from the Alpha, there is still an element of submission that makes it feel less strange than just sitting next to each other. The Alpha could make him lose his balance or throw him off any time. Not that Dean thinks he will, seeing how the Alpha smells happy and content while drawing Dean into his side.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And isn’t that a strange way of thinking about this, that, even if it’s in a small way, Dean is making himself vulnerable by choice because he knows the Alpha will use his strength to prop him up, not tear him down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a bit too much, so Dean just snuggles in, his head ending up on Castiel’s shoulder while the Alpha starts the dessert show. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There are still sounds of baking going on when Dean wakes up. He’s not upright anymore. His head is pillowed in the Alpha’s lap, his nose pressed against the Alpha’s stomach, the Alpha’s arms curled around him. The Alpha himself has slumped backwards and is snoring softly. His head is tilted to the side to rest on the couch and his mouth is open. The Alpha is drooling a little and it’s really fucking cute and spawns a surge of both affection and irritation in Dean. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute </span>
  </em>
  <span>is not a word he attaches to Alphas. Not even to this one. But no other word comes to mind, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean has the urge to reach out and pet his hand through the shock of dark hair on the Alpha’s head. Maybe to smoothen down the strands that stand up wildly, maybe to ruffle through them and make the bedhead even worse. He’s not sure. Maybe it doesn’t matter because all he wants to do is touch. That urge to touch the Alpha really has turned permanent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes a little more sense to him now that he knows that they’re scent compatible. And the fact that the Alpha said he feels the same compulsion helps, too. It’s not just omega neediness. It’s not Dean wanting to be abused and not coping well with Castiel letting him choose so many things in his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Huh. There’s another angle that Dean hasn’t thought about too much. Because Castiel feels the same compulsion to touch, as by his own words, but the only times he acts on it without giving Dean a choice is when he’s too sleepy to be in control. For the longest time Dean thought it was because Castiel didn’t actually want to touch him, but in light of everything that transpired today, it might as well be that Castiel really puts Dean’s choice above his own wants. That he doesn’t act on his impulses - no more than reaching out to touch Dean’s shoulder or elbow or hand anyway - because the moment he initiates the contact, he knows Dean will go along. So maybe, in Castiel’s mind, touching Dean’s skin unprompted, holding him close or kissing him, maybe all of that amounts to a prelude to that word that he keeps using in conjunction with pets. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rape</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean should have asked Gabriel about it. About that word. Not that he really wanted to ask Gabriel anything because what even was that whole sex talk. But an omega possibly agreeing that that word can be used when talking about omegas… It boggles Dean’s mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It also gives him a slimy </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>feeling that he’s never had before. A sense of </span>
  <em>
    <span>violation</span>
  </em>
  <span>, where before there had at least been the feeling that he was a good enough omega. One who didn’t have many uses maybe, but who could at least take what was given to him. Who had learned to hold still and never flinch away. Not much of an accomplishment, but it had gotten him a pat on the hip or a nice word every so often when his masters were slumped over after, their bodies spent and their needs taken care of. He’d craved that, the acknowledgement that he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not something he can tell Castiel about. He can imagine the Alpha’s horrified face without having to see it. Dean looks at the Alpha’s relaxed features, his guard coming down only in sleep and with nature. And goddamn, he wants to protect him. He wants to gloss over the details of his life and let the Alpha be innocent and happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course that’s not gonna happen, either. Not if the Alpha actually takes a hands-on approach to the issue of the omegas still owned by the club. The rest of it won’t be so bad, probably. The house omegas at the manor mostly were beneath notice for his old masters. Yeah, they administered punishments personally and they made sure that everyone knew to fear them, but it was only when the head housekeeper reported those issues. All the small stuff, the staff handled themselves and as long as the house ran smoothly, the masters allowed it. A sheltered life, as far as omegas go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s life fell somewhere in the middle, he guesses. He doubts that any house omega would have voluntarily traded places with him, but he’s pretty goddamn sure that every single club omega would have. Having a master to actually try and satisfy instead of serving what was sometimes a dozen different Alphas a day? Yeah, they would all jump at the chance. It’s the whole reason why Dean was always so fucking fast to bite them away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of it makes something nasty crawl in Dean’s stomach, because where he bit them away to stay alive at the manor, the thought of Castiel bringing any of those omegas home makes him nauseous in a way that has nothing to do with survival. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though if that thought makes anything clear, it’s that Dean will definitely go to the club with the Alpha. He’s not gonna sit here and wait and hope for the best. He’s not taking any chances with his new life. There’s so much light with Castiel, Dean feels like he should be blinded by it, after he spent so much time battling the dark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that’s the way he can and should tell the Alpha this eventually. That yeah, Dean’s dark comes up again and again, but that he never wants it to overshadow Cas’ light. Because he’s bathing in that light and it’s as beautiful as the Alpha is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought makes him feel all soft and gooey, so he presses a kiss to Castiel’s stomach - or rather to his shirt over his stomach. It makes the Alpha stir and sigh in his sleep, his arms drawing Dean another bit closer before his muscles go slack again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean only notices that he had held his breath when the Alpha stirred when everything is calm again. So much for never flinching. But then, at the manor, Dean never did anything that he wasn’t ordered to do. This whole taking the initiative thing is all new. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, well, he fears he can try that out again immediately, too, because the way Cas is sleeping, he’s totally gonna wake up with a crick in his neck. Which means Alpha in pain, which means grumpy Alpha, which Dean is not a fan of historically. Though he’s also just not a fan of Cas in pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In any case, he should do something about it. He sighs before gently shaking the Alpha. “Cas? Do you want to go to bed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha first doesn’t stir at all to then wake with a start. Dean automatically protects his head just in case.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha’s voice is rough, heavy with sleep. “Did we fall asleep?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean peeks out from under his arms, then takes them down. “Pretty sure we did.” He straightens up now that the Alpha is awake and any danger of territorial instincts has passed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh.” Castiel yawns. “Guess it was a long day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmh,” Dean nods in agreement and watches the long lines of Castiel’s body as he stretches. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel suddenly snorts and it brings Dean’s eyes back up from their trip along the Alpha’s body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just thought about how nothing used to happen on my average days. I had a routine that was always the same. I could have probably told you down to the minute when I was gonna make myself some tea and when I would be back at my notebook. And now…” The Alpha shakes his head with another snort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Dean says. “You don’t have to...” He peters off when the Alpha levels him with a stare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was marveling at the sudden changes in my life. I did not say that I want things back the way they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Besides, it is hardly your doing that my brother of all people showed up here today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is undoubtedly true. “Was that a good surprise or bad?” Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel thinks about it for a moment. “I haven’t wrapped my mind around it yet, but he is alive and well and as obnoxious as ever. It’s better than I could have expected really.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. “Guess Sammy wouldn’t even recognize me.” The thought comes out aloud before he has time to swallow it back down. But it’s true. Dean from before he presented wouldn’t recognize the Dean at the manor or the Dean here, either. Well, maybe he’d recognize the Dean here a little bit. In some moments, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, he was much younger when he last saw you than I was when I last saw my brother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s definitely not what Dean meant, but still, “How old were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Almost 17.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh.” It explains why Castiel was able to help - which Sam at ten definitely was not. But, “Did your brother present late?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Castiel shakes his head. “My parents wanted him tutored until he was 18 before they sold him on. He was supposed to be perfect so that he couldn’t sully the family name any further.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tutored? Is that like, trained at home?” Dean frowns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel nods. “Yes. There were clear rules which parts of the house he had access to and which he didn’t. The rest of us were not supposed to acknowledge him beyond his training anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you keep to that?” Dean asks, genuinely curious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried. In the beginning, because I thought it was the way it was supposed to be. Later, because...” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stares a hole into the empty air, his expression spooked, like whatever he’s seeing in his mind is still breaking him apart. “I found him crying on the floor after a punishment. Alone and leashed and - Gabriel had always been willful and so full of life. And they were breaking him down to where all that was left was despair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must take extra effort, to reach that point while still at home. Think the training facilities got it easier, there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Castiel shakes his head. “If you’re still home, but the family you were a part of does not acknowledge you anymore? If they see your despair and do nothing but further it? If your brothers gleefully administer punishments for the crime of you trying to talk to them? Doesn’t that make it worse?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s already imagined himself as Sam’s punching bag, but he’s never imagined Sam being the one training him. The one breaking him. Stripping him down until only a pet is left. He shudders. “Did you?” he asks Castiel. “Administer punishments?” He’s pretty sure that if Castiel did it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>gleeful</span>
  </em>
  <span> at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” the Alpha shakes his head. “They tried to make me after they noticed that I still held - sympathies for Gabriel. So I made sure that we never interacted where anyone could see. It was safest for both of us if it looked like I had completely forgotten that he existed. And it wasn’t that hard to pretend - I had my nose in a book most of the time back then. It was my way of escaping before I was old enough to actually escape their clutches.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the first thing in this conversation that makes Dean smile. He can imagine a young Castiel burying his whole head behind the pages of a book just to get away from interactions with his family. He is in fact not sure that current Castiel wouldn’t still employ the same tactic if he had no way of leaving an unwanted social interaction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never actually managed to help much. It wasn’t often that I managed to smuggle food or provide painkillers or even just to be there. I never managed to help enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apart from the one time when it counted,” Dean offers quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel takes a deep breath. “Yes, I managed that, thank God. Though I cannot even begin to tell you how much it freaked me out. I had no idea what I was doing, and I was certain that if anything went wrong, it would spell lifelong doom for both Gabriel and me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They would have punished you,” Dean realizes. “How would they have punished you?” The concept of Alphas being held accountable for anything they’re doing is not usually one that makes an appearance in Dean’s world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shakes his head. “I have no idea. Legally speaking, I was stealing property from my family. So they could have pressed charges for that. Though of course if it had been classified as an attack on society and the state that I was helping him gain freedom… You know that they don’t take that lightly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s hand finds his collar. The one that he can open himself, even though it is a personal risk to Castiel for the exact same reason that helping his brother was a risk. He doesn’t have words for the feeling that that produces, so all he says is, “‘m glad they didn’t catch either of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too,” Castiel sighs. “So, bed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bed,” Dean agrees. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s becoming more normal, sorting themselves into bed. Dean doesn’t have the urge to ask whether he’s allowed under the covers and Cas doesn’t hesitate before opening his arms so that Dean can crawl into his side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s after that when things become complicated again. Because Cas’ body is warm and solid next to Dean and while he was absolutely not ready to talk about sex during dinner, there are questions that have come up with everything Gabriel told him. And Dean’s had just enough of a nap to be awake again now and have them niggling at his brain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas?” he asks hesitantly. “Are you very tired?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” The Alpha asks back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “I just - I’ve got a question.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay?” Castiel says. “I’m definitely not too tired to answer a question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grimaces because he’s not sure Castiel won’t regret that statement. But also, cuddled up in bed like this, his face pressed into the Alpha’s side, is probably the only way Dean will find the courage to ask this. “I was thinking…” He trails off because even with everything, he can’t help but expect the Alpha to mock him for that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Thinking </span>
  </em>
  <span>is not an omega trait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Castiel doesn’t laugh. “Did you want me to try to find your brother after all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No. I mean, I don’t know,” Dean breaks off. “You’d really do that? Just ‘cause I mentioned him like once and he might have turned out omega?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Dean. Of course I would help you find your brother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But what would you even like - do with him? You never wanted me, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shift in Cas’ mood is immediate, though his grip on Dean doesn’t change. “I would not want him to be a slave any more than I want you to be one. There are always the options that Charlie can offer. She could offer them to both of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want that?” Dean asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to take whatever option Charlie offers?” Dean asks, dread already forming in his stomach, though he manages to push it down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is your decision, Dean, not mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean groans because honestly the Alpha is frustrating as fuck. “But do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want me to take the offer or do you want me to stay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I had already made that clear. At the lake?” Castiel answers carefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but that was - before.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re still worried about the possibility of a scent bond,” Cas deducts. He doesn’t really get upset, but his voice turns firm. “I told you. I care for you. A lot. A scent bond doesn’t make any difference for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods into the Alpha’s side, stomach uneasy. He’s not scared by Castiel being stern, not really. Cas turns stern when he wants to drive a particular point home. It’s not because he thinks Dean’s been bad, Dean doesn’t think. Only, according to Gabriel a scent bond </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>make a difference, even though Cas says it doesn’t. Dean grimaces because just agreeing with the Alpha would be so much easier. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>have that talk soon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So he presses on. “Gabriel said something,” Dean admits. “About how he and Balthazar have a bond, too, and how it, umm, took them less than a week before they fucked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s hands on Dean’s back fall away as his scent turns to alarm. “Dean, I meant it. I’m not going to touch you against your will. I never want you to live through another forced sexual encounter in your life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which, yeah, Dean got that. And despite his whole life teaching him differently, he believes it. It’s just that, “Not the problem I’m having here, Cas.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not?” The alarm in Cas’ scent turns to surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. What are you saying then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And of course the Alpha would make Dean spell it out. He grimaces, heat already spreading to his face and ears. But it’s his own fault, he’s started this topic after all. So he’s gotta see it through now. “I’ve been daydreaming,” he admits before hurriedly adding, “Like, I know you don’t even want to see me naked. And you never touch me under my clothes. But I’ve had these thoughts about your hands running down my sides and touching me all gentle.” He swallows hard. “It was nice. Had nothing to do with, you know, what your brothers did. And I don’t - I mean, Gabriel said it can feel good, all of it. Even knotting. And I have no idea about that, but - I dunno. I wanted to ask. Whether you’d even want to touch me like that. Or whether my body is too repulsive to you. I mean I’d get it. You don’t have to feel bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, there is utter silence. Like Dean has stunned the Alpha into motionlessness. Dean can’t tell how the Alpha is taking this otherwise, though. His scent is wavering too much. Like he has trouble processing Dean’s words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, the Alpha clears his throat, “Dean, you’re - you’re not repulsive to me.” It sounds like a heavy admission, but still, Castiel’s hands come back up to Dean’s back. Above his shirt, of course, but it still seems like the Alpha wants to make sure that Dean knows that he means that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, it feels like it’s about protection and wanting Dean to feel okay with himself. Which is nice, don’t get him wrong, but it doesn’t mirror the heat that Dean feels pooling in his stomach every so often when he watches the Alpha and imagines - things. “’S okay, Cas. I know that I’m kinda old and that I’ve been fucked and punished a lot. My body isn’t all that attractive anymore. ‘S nothing you need to protect me from. I know it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re wrong,” Castiel says tonelessly. “You’re so very wrong.” He breaks off for a moment like he has to collect himself, but when he starts back up that spooked undertone is gone. Instead, his voice is determined. “There are so many beautiful things about you, Dean. I can name a few if you want. Your eyes are the most wonderful shade of moss. When the sun caught them today, they were stunning. Even the few hours outside made your freckles stand out so much more, and they are beautiful, too. And when you smile because you’re genuinely happy for a moment? That’s brighter than the sun was outside today. And yes, you are way too thin and I worry about your health, but we’re working on that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t even know what to do with that, so he flees to something known, “I’m gonna be even further away from perfect omega proportions if you keep allowing me to eat this much,” he warns. “And I’ll still be too tall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfectly Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span> and that’s the only perfect I care about,” the Alpha stubbornly persists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there is just - absolutely nothing that comes up in Dean’s mind as an answer to that. So instead, he dumbly asks, “So does that mean you’d want to touch me? Some day, maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel goes still next to him. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure </span>
  </em>
  <span>you want that? To be honest, I was expecting you to never want to be intimately touched by an Alpha again in your life after everything my brothers did to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “I mean, you smelled it, right? How my body reacts to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arousal and acting on said arousal is not the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I - ‘s new for me. Outside of heat, I mean. ‘S never happened at the manor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. “‘Course when I’m daydreaming like that I’m also not imagining you to -” He breaks off, thoroughly wigged by the thought of Castiel’s voice going cold as he orders him to present. To become a warm hole to sink into while Dean, the person, disappears. It’s been such a short time, but he already grapples to hold on to Dean, the person. He doesn’t want to disappear again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shudders as he pulls himself back out of his thoughts. It’s easier here, somehow, on the soft bed, surrounded by his Alpha’s scent. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Until he betrays you, anyway</span>
  </em>
  <span>, a voice in his head says. He growls at it internally to make it shut up. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel nods. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So if - say you touched me and there was something I didn’t like…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d want you to tell me immediately. I’d want you to tell me to stop,” Castiel answers before Dean manages to even word what he wants to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nibbles at his lip. “What about if - if you weren’t even really hurting me? If it was just in my head? Cause I know you said to tell you when you do something that hurts, but what if...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then, too,” Castiel says quickly. “It’s enough that you don’t like it. More than enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean digests that for a moment. He is pretty sure that he wouldn’t like disappearing as a person again at all, so that would fall under the permission to say No. Then of course, he’s also not sure whether he’d actually manage to say anything if he couldn’t hold onto being a person long enough to get the words out.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think you would be able to do that?” Castiel asks quietly. “Say No?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe?” Dean hedges. Even just the thought makes him squirm. It’s not been an option in basically ever. But judging by how fast he managed to adapt to the Alpha’s wish for him to look up, maybe he could retrain himself. Maybe if he practices a few times, it could work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your body is </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You get to say whether and how I get to touch it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s obviously not true. Castiel owns him, he’s got every right to do with his property whatever the fuck he pleases. Still, Dean’s got no doubt that Cas means it. “But if you were certain I wanted it, you’d want to touch me?” Dean asks again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent turns heavy, but after a moment he nods. “I - I feel attracted to you, Dean,” he confesses. “If I thought - if me touching you could bring you joy and pleasure, I think I - I think I’d find that very pleasurable as well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smells almost ashamed, like he’s confessing something forbidden, which Dean doesn’t get at all. “It’s not a crime, wanting to fuck,” he says and it’s supposed to sound reassuring, but it obviously doesn’t work, because Castiel’s scent turns more sour. The Alpha took that wrong then. “Gabriel said to try and find out what I like.” It slips out before Dean can stop it. He can feel his face flaming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s - good advice for basically everything,” Castiel answers hesitantly, obviously not getting Dean’s meaning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was, umm, specific context,” Dean mumbles and at this rate his face is going to burn off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha is silent for a moment, trying to work it out. “Is this about how you want me to touch you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean nods and bites his lip. In for a penny, in for a pound, he guesses. No pun intended. “Also, not really. Gabriel seemed to think that, umm...” And yeah, Dean feels the flames cover not only his face but spread all the way down to his chest. This is probably the most awkward conversation he’s had in his life. Not that talking was a huge part of his life before he ended up here. He closes his eyes and rushes through the rest of his sentence, heart almost beating out of his chest. “He said that it would be helpful if I had permission to touch myself cause then I could figure out what felt good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cowers away afterwards, though it’s mostly just curling up, hiding his face in the mattress instead of in Cas’ warmth. It’s not so much that he consciously believes Cas is gonna hit him. It’s just that his body reacts preemptively because he’s asked the Alpha for something outrageous. Ownership over their own pleasure, that’s just - not a thing for omegas. Anywhere. So his body expects the idea to be brutally squashed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You, umm - Dean, why would you need my permission for that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounds so honestly confused that even Dean’s body understands that there’s no danger and untangles itself enough that he can look at the Alpha. “‘S not just whether I need to be punished and hurt, that's the master’s decision. Any pleasure also needs permission. And any pleasure that doesn’t involve the master’s pleasure? ‘S not allowed. Anywhere, really.” And maybe he shouldn’t explain this if he really wants that permission. It’s just, the Alpha is so clueless sometimes. And Dean doesn’t want to repay the Alpha’s kindness of explaining the world outside of a pet’s horizon to Dean by leaving him in the dark about what rules there are for omegas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I’m not your master. We threw out the rulebook. We agreed on that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is true, of course, but… Dean shrugs uncomfortably. His voice is quiet when he admits, “Yeah, I kind of don’t think I could even make myself feel anything other than terror without your explicit permission.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” The Alpha gulps audibly, but then determination enters his scent. “Okay. Let me repeat: your body is your own, not mine. You get to say who touches it and how. That includes yourself. Any place you want to touch on your own body for, umm, any purpose, you are free to do so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean waits for the answering tingle in his body, his body recognizing the Alpha’s permission, before he mumbles an embarrassed, “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please remember that it goes the other way, too. If anyone tries to touch you when you don’t want it, you have my full permission to do whatever it takes to put a stop to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever it takes?” Dean asks with a frown. “Even fight back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Even fight back,” Castiel confirms. “Though I want to entreat you to be careful, especially with Alphas. I mean, they’re not supposed to hurt you or even touch you in the first place since you belong to me, but - please immediately call me for backup if I’m not already there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, most Alphas ain’t gonna take it well if an omega tries to hit ‘em on the nose,” Dean agrees, a shudder running through his body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kick them in the groin,” Castiel growls. “Alpha strength is not gonna help them when they’re on the floor holding their balls.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Against his will, Dean snorts. The Alpha is never crude like this, so he didn’t expect it. But then an image turns up in his head, one of Master Michael and Master Lucifer. More specifically, of Dean standing over them, his former masters on the floor, writhing in pain. He shivers. There’s fear - because they will get up again eventually - and there’s guilt - because he’s definitely not being a good omega -, but there’s also a small flame of something that feels suspiciously like satisfaction. Like it was long overdue that they got kicked in the groin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it,” Castiel emphasizes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Dean hurries to assure. “Pretty sure it’s the kind of idea that will bring a hell of a lot of trouble for you, too, though. You’re supposed to have your omega under control.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’d be worth any trouble if it means that you don’t get hurt.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is no doubt that Castiel means that as well. It makes Dean press back into the Alpha’s side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I liked the kissing, you know,” Dean says, and it’s only partially a deflection. The Alpha just keeps saying shit that feels too big and Dean’s brain needs a bit of space to cope with it. “I know you’re all worried about hurting me, but I liked it. And I don’t - I never liked the way Alphas used my mouth before. But it was different with you. So I kinda have hopes that everything else would be different with you, too, you know?” He swallows. “‘S just - Gabriel told me that I should tell you what I like. Cause he says it can be nice outside of heat, too. Sex, I mean. That it doesn’t always hurt. But I kinda - I’ve got no idea what I like. All I know is that I don’t like to hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, all the sexual encounters you’ve had, they weren’t - they weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>sex</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They were forced. Of course they hurt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s kind of glad that the Alpha doesn’t use </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>word again, so he just nods. “That’s what I’m saying. ‘S what Gabriel was saying, too, I think. That it can be different. That I could like it if I figured out what, well, what makes me feel good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not proud of how he stumbles over his words, but the Alpha clears his throat, too, maybe also a little uncomfortable saying all of this straight out, before he cautiously asks, “Which you don’t know, because your only experience with others is force and you were never allowed to try things out on your own?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods a little shakily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha takes a few deep breaths. “Do you need anything more from me than me telling you that it’s okay to touch any part of yourself? Do you need to hear that it’s fine to, umm, bring yourself to completion?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like a trick question, though Castiel’s scent is completely earnest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not even sure that’s possible outside of heat,” Dean mutters. “I mean, Gabriel seems to think it is, but…” He shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if Alphas orgasm outside of rut, it only makes sense for omegas to be able to outside of heat as well,” Castiel argues. “I mean, I could research it if you want. There must be some more reliable sources than porn out there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean groans and hides his head in Castiel’s side again. Research-mode is not what he expected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes the Alpha chuckle. “Or you could just try it out. Applied sciences have their advantages after all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that is just so fucking nerdy and </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Dean’s embarrassment dissipates and is replaced by a wave of fondness towards the Alpha. “Do you wanna kiss me again?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Castiel is obviously thrown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Cause I kinda want to kiss you.” He looks up at the Alpha, probably more hope in his gaze than he wants to admit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel searches his face for a moment before he smiles. “Come here, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls Dean up, making him end up halfway on top of the Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean freezes because he’s been under Alphas a lot in his life. On top of them? Not so much. And the Alpha is making no move to drag him down for the kiss, either. He brought them eye to eye and now he’s just waiting what Dean will do next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is not going as Dean planned. Okay, Dean didn’t have a plan, but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Castiel moves after all, though it’s still not to draw Dean in. Instead, his hand slowly and carefully comes up to Dean’s neck. He caresses the skin there, and then there’s a click and Dean’s collar falls away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There,” Castiel smiles. “That’s better.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Like betas kiss. </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s thought it before and apparently Cas is kind of thinking the same. It’s the only reason Dean can think of anyway, why Cas would get rid of the collar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That heady feeling in his gut comes back with a vengeance. He remembers enough from his biology classes that he knows that being a beta was never in the cards for him, his fate always decided between Alpha and omega, but he can’t deny the allure of having the freedom to give </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>take, no need for orders or obedience. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s still exceedingly careful when he leans in. But Cas keeps smiling at him, eyes soft. His hands have now found Dean after all, wrapping around his waist. A hold that is so gentle that Dean knows that he could get out of it no problem. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can put them under my shirt,” he murmurs before closing the last of the distance between them, softly touching his lips to Castiel’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gasps when Cas obeys and slides his hands under Dean’s shirt, warmth spreading from the points of connection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes a risk and puts his own hand on Castiel’s face, cradling his cheek to deepen the kiss. Castiel leans into it, eyes closing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lets his own eyes slip closed, too, and oh yeah, betas have a point with what they’re doing cause this is nice. Really nice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas seems to enjoy it, too. In any case, he melts into the kiss in a way he definitely didn’t do in the forest, his body pliant under Dean and softer than a muscular Alpha should be able to be. His scent turns sweeter, too, vanilla and cinnamon and apple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then something else. Something sharper, spicier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Arousal.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s never consciously smelled it on Castiel before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Immediately, there’s a spike of fear and he has to break the kiss and come up for air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean? Are you okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean breathes in deep, but the smell has already been washed out of the air. Dammit. “I didn’t mean to,” he apologizes. “I like kissing you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nuzzles closer, but instead of pulling him back in for a kiss, the Alpha pulls him towards his scent gland. Where Dean smells worried Alpha. There’s also sweetness still, but no trace of arousal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna hurt you. I mean it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because the arousal was gone the minute Dean smelled of fear. Because that’s a scent the Alpha can smell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S gonna be really frustrating for you, Alpha,” Dean mumbles into Cas’ skin. Because he’s pretty sure this is gonna happen quite often. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t mind. The only thing I’d mind is hurting you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You weren’t,” Dean reassures him. “‘S just - my body expects something else, you know? Even though you smelled much nicer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Than they did. When they, umm.” It occurs to Dean only belatedly that the Alpha probably does not want to hear about how his brothers smelled when they fucked Dean. “Anyway, you still smelled like, well, if there was spicy apple pie, that’s what you’d smell like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Spicy apple pie, huh? Are you sure that’s an okay thing? Doesn’t sound like something people would find too appetizing.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no one mixing apples with spices?” Dean frowns because he can’t believe that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, there are chutneys I guess. They mix sweet and spicy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See,” Dean says, like that has made his point. “We should make chutney some day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Castiel chuckle. He draws Dean back into his side, so that the two of them are snuggling close. “Yeah? I’d have to look up recipes and also see what it’s eaten with. It comes from India.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s pretty far away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think Balthazar and Gabriel ever travelled there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. We’d have to ask them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must be weird, seeing so many countries,” Dean muses. “I mean, the outside’s so big already right here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you enjoy it, though? Or was it too much?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, it was cool. I could, like, totally do that again some day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We will,” Castiel promises. “No more being cooped up inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dean sighs, happy warm feeling spreading inside him and making him drowsy. “Thank you, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel presses a kiss on the top of Dean’s head. “I think you’re a wee bit tired. Sleep, Dean. Have good dreams.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When he wakes up, Dean’s sore. And not in a place that he’s used to being sore in. No, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>legs</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things are what’s hurting. It makes sense to him only after a moment. Walking. He did a lot more walking yesterday than he’s used to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, he also slept in a lot longer than he’s used to because the spot next to him is empty and when Dean touches it, the blankets are cold. The Alpha’s been up for a while. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes his heart rate ratchet up until he remembers the time the Alpha had let him sleep through a whole afternoon before waking him. Castiel would have woken him up if he needed him. He wouldn’t just let him sleep and then punish him for it. Dean’s reasonably sure about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a few deep breaths, willing his heart to calm down, and makes his way out of bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing up makes his muscles protest. He grimaces and takes a few moments to stretch them out. They’re stiff after the night, but warming them up makes them loosen and lessens the pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Huh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a principle that he’s always known of course, but now he wonders whether it’s also applicable to - other muscles. Gabriel had said something about stretching himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he’s got permission and he’s about to take his morning shower, which he is allowed to turn as hot as he wants to, so warming up any muscles shouldn’t be a problem. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought makes him gulp. But there’s a distinct tingling in his groin like his body is definitely into trying it out. Which - also the scent bond, probably. Because definitely not a thing that he was ever feeling at the manor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a split-second he wonders whether he might be approaching his heat after all. That could also be a reason for heightened sense of arousal. But then, he’s had heats before, and really he’s never noticed them until the fever actually hit. And then it was mostly a feeling like he was drowning in sweat while his insides were drying up, leaving him parched in a way no amount of water could quench. The desperation he’d felt then, the way he’d needed to be knotted or die of pain, has nothing to do with the nice tingles he’s experiencing now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So it’s gotta be a product of Castiel’s apple pie scent together with Dean being rested and well fed and not even fearing that today will bring any pain. Soreness in his legs notwithstanding. Dean guesses that it’s a more conducive mixture to arousal than the terror and hunger of his old life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slips into the shower a minute later, turning on the water, adding a little more heat just because that’s the way he likes it. He still has to use Cas’ scented shower gel, which he has now learned won’t smell ridiculous to Cas, because he’ll smell the shower gel but not Dean’s omega scent underlying it - and, does this mean that to Cas, Dean kinda smells like himself because they’re using the same shower gel? It’s almost enough of a thought to make Dean start liking the heavy fragrance. Almost. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He starts out as he always does, quick and efficient movements - </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t waste water</span>
  </em>
  <span> -, happy that there are no open cuts on him that would sting when the soap hits them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, this way, he’s hardly feeling his own touches. So he slows down. He's still just soaping up his torso, but slowing down, he can kind of imagine Castiel's long slender fingers. They'd be steady and warm and in his mind they are gentle in their explorations, trying to figure him out, coaxing out a shudder maybe, making Dean arch into the touch. Because of course Dean's body would want to be closer, because that is what his body does when it's near Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows hard, breathing out through his mouth as his hand nears his dick. It twitches when his hand glides around the base, remembering his early teenage years, when jerking off was the thing Dean did to get himself off. It was before he presented, obviously, and it’s a dim memory now. He wraps a hand loosely around himself, following the patterns of the past. He strokes up and down a few times, using a little more pressure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes his stomach twist, but not in a pleasurable way. What the hell is he doing? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even if he has permission to touch himself in ways he likes, this is not it. This is for Alphas and beta males. And yeah, he’s been kind of pretending to be a beta here with Cas a lot, a step below the Alpha, but free to negotiate and have initiative. But this? Shame curls in Dean’s stomach. This is not a part of him the Alpha will ever want to touch. More than that, it isn’t a part Dean should feel pleasure in anyway. His pleasure has to come from being stretched wide and filled up. His dick is unnecessary, no more useful than his appendix. The only difference being that an appendix is on the inside, not dangling around on the outside where it looks ugly and is a distraction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s stopped touching himself long since, but now he has to actively breathe through the impending panic. He’s safe here. He’s never going to black out and wake up with this part of him missing. Even if the Alpha dislikes that it still reacts. It fills out when Dean’s in heat, no matter how much he wills it to stay soft und unnoticed. Master Lucifer had always sneered at that, the cruel glimmer in his eyes showing how much he wanted to punish Dean for it. All he had done, though, was to make Dean get a bowl with ice water to shrink it back down and his cage to keep it that way. It had almost been a kindness. Master Michael’s influence, Dean is sure. He always had a sermon at the ready about how God made all bodies and their functions and how they should be controlled but not altered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he shivers at the thought of how the ice hurt his overheated and oversensitive skin before he started to lose feeling. Which was usually the part at which he’d started frantically begging Master Lucifer to put him in his cage, his heat-addled brain scared that his dick would just shrivel up and fall off in the cold. He’d remember it after, when his head was clear again, that a small bowl of ice water - the ice cubes melting fast - was not gonna do that, but knowing it after never made the fear go away during. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean watches the warm water flow down the drain and wills the shivers to go away. He’s okay. He’s with Alpha Castiel and he’s okay. Breathe in, count to ten, breathe out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After another minute or so he’s good to move again, but he’s definitely lost all tingly feelings and any will to try to make himself feel good. He can see why Gabriel thought it might be a good idea, but it’s not gonna work. There’s just too much that’s messed up about Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t matter anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean likes making Castiel happy. So if he can make Cas happy, that’s gonna be enough. And even if Cas’ Alpha overwhelms him when he takes Dean, that’ll only be a short while. It’s okay if that part hurts. Cause Dean thinks that Cas will be Cas again after. He won’t want to rip his knot out. He’s probably not even gonna pick up his book for the wait while they’re tied together. He’s gonna drape himself over Dean, blanketing him with warmth and he’ll give Dean all the soft touches that he longs for because that is who Cas is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought makes Dean feel good enough that he’s finally able to finish washing himself off. He’s not seen the Alpha yet this morning and he kinda misses him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finds him in the kitchen, the whole kitchen smelling heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Alpha,” Dean greets him and does his best to be subtle about scenting. Only it doesn’t really work when his stomach growls loudly. “What are you making?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel gives him a wide smile. “I baked banana bread! The bananas were getting a little overly ripe anyway, and I feel like it might not only be good for breakfast, but also make the perfect nutritious snack to munch on during the day when you get hungry. I put in pecans to make it a little crunchier and also because nuts are very healthy. I have high hopes that this will not overwhelm your stomach. I found a recipe that uses lean yogurt and somewhat less butter, which might make it less spongy, but I think it’s well worth it if your stomach reacts well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s a bit overwhelmed by both the long speech and all the consideration Castiel put into this. It makes the butterflies in his stomach come back. “You are very good to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s no more than the truth, but Castiel still blushes and his scent turns sweet enough to overpower the banana smell. “I hope you like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll like it,” Dean nods because he’s sure of it. “Have you already had coffee or do you want me to make you some?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles. “I’ve already had a cup, but I’m not opposed to having another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One of the fancy ones?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. “Coming right up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He makes sure the Alpha sees that he takes two cups out of the cupboard, to which the Alpha nods and smiles while busying himself with getting the orange juice, also taking two glasses for that. Maybe at some point Dean will get used to the ease of all of this, but for now, he has no good way of expressing how grateful he is, other than making sure that the Alpha gets some great coffee with his breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So, I've got a website opened for you." The Alpha starts apropos of nothing in the middle of breakfast and pulls the tablet closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay?" Dean says a little apprehensively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles reassuringly. "Nothing bad, I promise."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay," Dean repeats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It’s a clothes store." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alpha…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It caters to betas and Alphas, so if there's anything omega-specific that you want, let me know and I'll find a website for that as well. But I think for the basics, this one is a good choice."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Alpha, I don't need…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There's enough Alpha put behind the one word that Dean shuts up. There is no negotiation about this, it seems.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You need some clothes of your own. I know you don’t see it that way, but you do,” the Alpha stresses, though his voice is already soft again. He turns to the tablet. “I'm assuming you wear an M for shirts and sweaters as everything I gave you is a little wide. But since you're tall I'd go with large on pants. Though jeans follow a different measurement system altogether. We can navigate that together." The Alpha holds out the tablet like he wants Dean to take it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean knots his hands together in his lap. "I don't even - what do I even need?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Everything, Dean. You need everything," the Alpha sighs. "How about we go by category?" The Alpha types something and the screen changes. "Here. Find five t-shirts that you like."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, Dean takes the tablet, but he's still not touching the screen. "What should they look like?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, they should look like t-shirts for starters."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yeah, Dean's got that, but, "What colors do you prefer?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Whichever ones you like."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But nothing. I want you to feel comfortable in the clothes you choose,” the Alpha stubbornly insists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stares at the page. It shows two dozen options and judging by the little numbers on top of the screen that he’s already learned mean that there are more search results to click on, there are significantly more. “Cas, I…” He shakes his head, already feeling in over his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Castiel says gently, apparently starting to understand how overwhelmed Dean is. “Let’s do this together.” He comes around the table, pushing a chair close so that he can sit next to Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean makes some space, pushing his plate and coffee cup to the side so that the Alpha can pull his own breakfast closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe the best way to start is to remember what you liked wearing before you presented?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s weird enough, having to base his choices on whatever his taste was when he was 13, but it isn’t even only that that makes Dean shrug uncomfortably. “We got stuff at Goodwill, mostly. Didn’t really have the money for fancy new shirts. Kinda just grabbed what fit. There wasn’t much room for preferences.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Cas says. “That’s sensible. Still. Did you have any colors you liked better than others?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean thinks back. “Think I wore a lot of black. Mostly because stains don’t show up so much on that, though. Kinda always wanted some of the cool stuff, like, you know, band shirts or something, but you don’t find that kind of crap at Goodwill all that often.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is something we can work with,” Castiel nods. He clicks around on the page and then the search results change and now the t-shirts that are shown all have a pattern or a print. More than that, they have band names or album covers on them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, that’s Zepp. Icarus.” He marvels that the name of the falling angel on the shirt comes to him almost immediately. Though some niggling thought tells him that even if he looks like it he’s not actually an angel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, is it an album cover?” Castiel asks and clicks on the shirt, making the image bigger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, it‘s a logo.” Dean remembers that much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know that they used mythological symbolism,” Castiel says seriously. “It looks very interesting. What do you say? Do you like it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does. Of course he does. “Isn’t it - a bit much?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel raises an eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just mean - it’s kinda flashy. It’s pretty clear that it’s not made for an omega.” Because even house omegas, who regularly get to wear clothes, wear only muted colors and shapeless fits. They’re supposed to blend into the background, not to be noticed until there’s a task for them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> like it?” Cas insists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean admits quietly. “It’s cool.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s settled then.” The Alpha clicks to choose the right size and then clicks again. “And it’s in the shopping basket. A very good first choice if you ask me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can’t help the warm glow inside him at the praise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha turns the tablet back to Dean. “Four more to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It goes a little easier after that. Cas stays next to him, commenting when he sees something that might be interesting, but making very sure that he doesn’t make any decisions for Dean. Dean appreciates it at the same time that he curses it, because he’s really bad at this. Eventually, he chooses a second shirt with a print on it, though this one is not from a band, this one is Snoopy battling the Red Baron. Dean had enjoyed the comic strips as a pup and it still looks kinda cool in his opinion. And since it’s made for an adult Alpha or beta, he guesses it’s not too silly that the familiar cartoon dog makes him feel a gooey sort of sentimentality. For the other shirts, he goes with unicolor ones in grey and black, though. Those are more practical and if Cas actually takes him outside every so often, they will work better for that, too. Dean doesn’t want to know what people would think of Castiel if he showed up with an omega in a Zepp t-shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two pairs of jeans and a pair of sweatpants are easy enough to find because the basic models are what Dean is most comfortable with anyway, and Cas has enough of a grasp on the whole width and length measurement system that Dean is pretty sure that they’re gonna end up fitting just fine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Dean sees an ad for sales offers and recognition lights up in him. “Can I?” he asks, though it’s mostly rhetorical because he’s already clicking by the time Cas nods. He’s got no idea when that kind of bravery happened, but apparently it did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Flannels?” Cas smiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean nods. “Used to wear these a lot.” He looks through the different ones that are on sale. The colors are all muted and in the mud to mustard range. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s probably a wider selection if you type the word into the search bar.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there probably is, but even the flannels on sale are as much or more than the t-shirts, and really, it isn’t cold in Castiel’s house. “I don’t need them anyway. I have the hoodie if I’m cold,” Dean shrugs. “Unless you want that back, that is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can keep it. But we should still look at the flannels, see whether you like something.” The Alpha pulls the tablet over to himself and adds the search term, making a variety of flannels pop up that are not all brown. Instead, there is a rainbow selection both in plaid and unicolor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean scrolls through, undecided. He really doesn’t need any of them, but if the Alpha makes him get one, he should think practical at least. “This one maybe?” It’s a very muted green that will go okay with the dark shirts he chose, even if he’s outside where people will see.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been staring at this one for half a minute.” Cas points towards a flannel in light purples and blues. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can feel his face flush. Cas had told him before that colors were okay. It’s just not practical. “‘M sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Compromise?” Cas proposes. “Get one of the darker ones if you think that’s how it should be, but also get the plaid one you really want?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know that that compromise just means spending unnecessary money, right?” Dean replies, because that doesn’t seem to be a compromise at all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha raises an eyebrow. “I don’t see it as an unnecessary purchase. Also, believe it or not, if enough people read your books it’s actually quite a comfortable living. It won’t break the bank to get you an extra shirt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s not the point and Dean suspects that the Alpha is well aware of it. So Dean nods obediently and puts one of each of the shirts in the basket before asking a bit apprehensive, “What else?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Underwear and socks, shoes and a jacket. At the least.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alpha…” Dean sputters because that is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, we’ll do the socks first. Those can be fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"More bees?" Dean smiles even though the thought of so many more choices makes him queasy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, they are important to the planet," the Alpha defends his socks, though his ears turn an endearing shade of red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dean knows better than to say it out loud, but the Alpha is really fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But I think we should get you different patterns to differentiate our socks. Let's see what choices we have. Maybe there are some with pie on them." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To Dean's delight, there actually are. Cas doesn't even hesitate before putting them in the basket. Followed by pizza socks, coffee socks and burger socks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn't escape Dean’s attention that everything that they chose has food items on it and for a moment, Dean has to concentrate to breathe. What a horrible mockery the Alpha could make out of this if he wanted to. Teasing Dean with the food items on the fabric while not allowing him to eat. It makes a familiar lump of dread form in his stomach even though he remembers very well how intense Castiel’s Alpha voice had gotten when he told Dean that the food would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>disappear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These are two-packs each, so I think that should be enough socks for now, unless you see any others that you like? Sushi rolls maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s never had sushi rolls in his life, so he doesn’t care about them at all. “This is more than enough, Alpha. Thank you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. Shoes to go with the socks then. We’ll make it sneakers and just hope that they fit well enough. It would really be much better if we could go to a store so you could try them on,” Castiel frowns. “Well, worst case scenario, we’ll have to return them and try a different pair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s got no idea about any of the other items, either, but shoes are so far out of his comfort zone that he pushes the tablet towards the Alpha. “You choose. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something about his voice must make it clear that he’s extremely uncomfortable because the Alpha takes over without trying to push Dean. “Color preferences?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. We’ll just go with the brand I like then and get you something sturdy that’s mostly watertight. We’ll see what we’ll do next winter. You’re gonna need boots when it snows, but maybe by then we’ve found a way where we don’t have to try to shop for them online. Boots that give you blisters are very annoying and they don’t give the same way sneakers do, so it takes much longer to break them in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a moment to sink in. Next winter. That’s nine months from now. The Alpha plans on still having him here then. “Thank you, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Dean. I rarely get to splurge. It’s fun finding stuff that you enjoy.” Judging by the warmth in Castiel’s scent that’s not a lie, however little sense it makes that the Alpha should enjoy spending money on Dean. “Okay, on to the jacket.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head, because he just can’t get over how unnecessary that is. It’s even more of a waste than the other clothes, because Dean can only wear it outside and only when it’s cold. “I can stay inside when it’s that cold, Alpha. I don’t need a jacket.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could stay inside,” Castiel agrees. “But you could also enjoy a few hours of sunshine with me on a walk outside even when it’s cold.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure you have an old jacket that would fit me well enough for a walk in the forest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas raises both eyebrows this time. “The clothes are really bringing out the stubborn part of you, aren’t they? Because by now, it almost seems like you’re arguing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean closes his mouth with an audible click, eyes flitting down to his lap and hands wringing together. He curbs his urge to slip from the chair to the ground, but it’s a close thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit shit shit.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M sorry, Alpha. I didn’t mean to.” Not that that makes things better. Because that means he didn’t think. Couldn’t even be bothered to watch his tone. When he should have been extra good because the Alpha is doing all of this for him. He could be working instead of holding Dean’s hand through shopping for clothes because Dean’s incapable of choosing socks on his own. And instead of being thankful about getting those socks and about the Alpha being so kind and patient, Dean’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>arguing </span>
  </em>
  <span>every step of the way. Because he’s an ungrateful bitch, whiny, disrespectful, his lessons never sticking. It’s his own fault that -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s hand cups his face and Dean can’t help his flinch. He doesn’t repeat that he’s sorry, but he does close his eyes. That’s allowed. One of the few parts of his body that he’s allowed to protect. As much as closing your eyes is protection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was an observation, Dean, not an admonishment.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s voice is way softer than it should be. It doesn’t mean anything, of course. Master Lucifer was deceptively soft sometimes as well. Just waiting for Dean to make the mistake of relaxing so that he could pounce. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at me, please?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s got him in his grasp and he’s probably still watching, too, so Dean keeps his face carefully blank when he slowly blinks open his eyes. Can’t let it show that you don’t want to follow an order. Gotta always look like your only wish is to obey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blue eyes capture his the moment his eyes are open. They stare right into his soul. Or maybe Dean is staring into the Alpha’s soul. He doesn’t know, but suddenly there are tears in his eyes and then the Alpha is wrapping him up in a tight hug and Dean is sobbing into the crook of his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, it’s okay,” the Alpha soothes. “It’s too much, I got it. We don’t have to continue. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(How are we at 100k words already? How?)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t resist when the Alpha pulls him up. Castiel holds him tight, though Dean doesn’t know whether it is because he thinks Dean’s gonna try to run or that Dean’s knees might buckle. To be fair, Dean doesn’t know, either. He’s desperately trying to at least stop his sobbing if he can’t stop his tears, but not even that is working, the sobs wrecking his whole body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha passes the couch, leading him to the guest room instead, where Dean gets carefully deposited in the armchair. Castiel takes the fluffy blanket and wraps it around Dean. Dean only notices that his hands are shaking when he tries to grasp the edges of the blanket to pull it closer. Castiel helps him, making sure it’s wrapped tightly around his torso.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that better?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean holds on to the soft fabric, forcing his fingers to comply and actually grasp the blanket. He nods, though the tears won’t stop flowing and the trembling won’t stop, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas gets up to get a box of tissues from the shelf and puts it on the small table next to the armchair. Then he crouches down in front of Dean. “Do you want me to stay or to go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a moment to process. Choices. Even now there are so many choices. He can’t keep up with them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then it catches up to him what the Alpha has actually done. He’s brought him to the armchair. To the cloud-blanket. Dean’s never told the Alpha about this place. About how safe it makes him feel. There’s only one person who figured it out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gabriel told you.” Dean’s voice cracks and he’s still sniffling, so he quickly grabs a tissue before pulling his arms back into the security of the blanket. The next moment he freezes because he’s hiding himself from the Alpha. He’s making it hard to touch. That’s not allowed. Protection is not allowed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He told me that omegas need a safe place to be on their own if that’s what you’re asking. And when I felt guilty about not providing what you needed, he told me that you had found this place for yourself. I’m sorry if I was not supposed to know. But it is safe, I promise. You’re safe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods mutely because he hears what Cas is saying, but his body doesn’t feel it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arguing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He was arguing with Castiel. Who had already used his Alpha-voice to make it clear what he wanted of Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give you space now.” The Alpha gets up to leave. Unlike most other times, he makes no effort to squeeze Dean’s wrist or clap a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He stays back instead, out of Dean’s personal space. He means it to be reassuring, Dean’s sure. No blow is going to land if the Alpha is out of striking range. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But instead of feeling reassured, Dean just feels wrong. Like he’s making the Alpha leave, pushing him away. It’s confusing as hell. But the urge to mend this overwhelms the fear, “Cas, wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha turns around, though he doesn’t come all the way back, still stays out of reach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M not scared of you. I trust you,” Dean mumbles though he knows that his actions belie his words. But he’s calmer now that he’s swaddled in his blanket. Also, now that he’s not crying so hard anymore, he can smell that the Alpha’s scent is full of sorrow, not anger. A downpour of water that’s washing out his normal sweetness. Not enough to drown an ocean, maybe, but definitely enough to taste the bitter salt of tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, the Alpha attempts a smile. "It's okay that you don't. Alphas never gave you reason to trust them.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t give you a reason to trust me in the beginning. I understand why you would prefer a nest for comfort rather than have me attempt to help you calm down. I have, well," Castiel clears his throat, "I’ve started some research, even if I haven’t gotten far yet and the consensus on the websites Gabriel sent me seems clear. Being huddled up among soft things is the best way to provide a safe space for an anxious omega.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounds like he’s reciting directly from whatever website he’s checked out. "Cas." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha hunches his shoulders, looking chastised for some reason that Dean can’t figure out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't need any of that,” Dean says tiredly. “I mean, thank you for doing so much for me. But I'm happy to be here. You don’t need to research that stuff for me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel frowns. “But you already made a makeshift nest. And I don’t think - the websites are the ones my brother sent me. I don’t think they’d be lying.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean pulls his knees up to his chest. “And that’s - cool, you know? That you’re letting me use the chair and the blanket and everything. But the rest - what Gabriel said - basically anything Gabriel said - that’s just not reality. You know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas comes back after all, though he perches on the window sill, doesn’t get into Dean’s space. “He’s living it. So it must be reality.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, for him.” Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “But it’s not… I mean, you know how things work here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that I despise how things work here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs again because, yeah, that makes a difference, but also, it doesn’t. “And I’m grateful for it. I really really am. ‘Cause you know, being with you is better than -,” he ends up vaguely gesticulating because he’s got no fitting comparison. “And I - I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>like you, Cas. Like, really. It’s not because your my m- because you own me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I still own you,” Cas says and it sounds like it’s a weight that’s crushing his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean nods because even if Cas doesn’t like to hear it, it’s still the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve always seen omegas as people in their own right. I won’t turn on you suddenly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you also - you can get tired of me. Or I could fuck up so much that you don’t want me around anymore.” That shouldn’t hurt quite as much as it does, so Dean grimaces and pushes on without letting the thought take hold. “And I’m not saying - I’m not saying that you would just sell me to a club or something, now that you know what they do, but…” He shrugs helplessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you couldn’t do anything about my decision either way. You’d be forced to obey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean nods, glad that Cas understands and doesn’t try to insist that he would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “‘S gonna make it so much worse, even if the place isn’t any more horrible than the manor. Having known, well, this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gathering that a reassurance that I’m committed to always having a place for you here is not going to help right now, is it? Because you will always have a place here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean smiles a very small smile. “I mean, ‘s not horrible to hear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But also not enough to relax?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip. He’s not sure that he ever really manages to relax and not be on guard. It’s been a long time since he even thought about it. Now though, now something in him yearns. And it’s been growing, with every little kindness and every new bit of hope. It’s not enough, though. Maybe not yet, or not now, but the soft blanket isn’t warm enough and the hug it provides is like a cloud, but it’s also too empty somehow. There’s just so much to lose suddenly. “‘S not even - I didn’t want to lose what little I had before, either,” Dean tries to put words to what he’s feeling. “Like, Master Michael and Master Lucifer were still so much better than the club. But it’s been a long time since I had any of </span>
  <em>
    <span>myself </span>
  </em>
  <span>to lose. ‘S higher stakes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel smiles a tiny bit, though the bitter salt is still prominent in his scent. “I know this is not what you need to hear right now, but I can’t help but take that as a rather big win. It makes me happy that you’re feeling safe enough with me to become more like yourself again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean chuckles a little wetly because he’s not sure he sees it the same way. The way he’s already clinging to being a person, they’re gonna have to start all the way from the beginning when they break him all over again if he fucks things up with Cas. "Started when you asked me my name, I think. I'd always been a person when I had that name. Hard to let go of that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I thank you all the more for telling me your name.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean huffs because really, there’s no version of his first days here in which he’d have refused the Alpha anything. “Yeah, well, thanks for not changing it to something better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>name. There’s nothing better than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See, you just - you just say shit like that and -” Dean breaks off groaning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?” Castiel asks, undisturbed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.” It comes out accusatory and Dean has the sudden urge to hide his face in the blanket. “Sorry,” he apologizes half-heartedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel, of all the things he could do, starts chuckling. It takes him a moment to turn serious again. But even then a soft, warm smile stays on his face. “You’re a wonderful person, Dean. I mean that. And I’d love to get to know more of you. As much as you want to show me. I know that what my brother and his mate have is - out of reach. That the fact of our circumstances alone makes it impossible, but -” He shrugs a little helplessly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t need it,” Dean says quietly. “I don’t need his freedom.” He can barely cope with choosing shirts and socks after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d want it for you, though. And it’s not -,” Castiel sighs and lets himself slide down along the wall under the window until his ass hits the floor. “There is a selfish part to it, too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Dean asks and shifts a little, uncomfortable with the Alpha being seated lower than himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel runs a hand through his hair. “It’s unrealistic and as such probably cruel to even mention it.” He sighs deeply. “But hearing about - an Alpha and an omega meeting each other, falling in love, getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>mated</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it feels - it feels fucking unfair that that isn’t a possibility for us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>For us.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Goosebumps crop up on Dean’s arms. He can’t be sure how that is meant, whether it just means them as in people in their society, or them as in </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What he knows is that the butterflies start a wild ruckus in his stomach because he’s already admitted this to himself. He clears his throat, mouth suddenly dry. “Do you think - do you think it happens anyway sometimes? Here, I mean? An Alpha and an omega falling in love?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see how it could be possible,” Castiel says, his scent turning incredibly sad again. “You need freedom to freely fall in love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The butterflies flutter insecurely and settle down. They don’t crash and burn, and Dean’s kinda proud of that. That he kept himself in check enough to not have the answer crush him. He didn't expect anything else, after all. It's only the way that being here has made wishes and hopes crop up why he keeps pushing. But a scent bond is not the same thing as falling in love. And the Alpha can’t even smell their bond. He was not going to reciprocate Dean’s feelings. Dean's got no idea why he keeps putting himself through this again and again. He could just stop hoping. Or at least stop asking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel sighs. "I'll go finish our purchases and then talk to Crowley. Maybe a little later you’ll feel well enough to join me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can join you now if you want me to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine. Just stay and relax for a bit.” The Alpha gives him a small smile. “But let me know if you need anything. Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Alpha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That gets him a smile where the sadness almost bleeds into heartbreak and Dean suddenly thinks he should have said </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cas </span>
  </em>
  <span>instead of Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can’t concentrate. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s trying to read the Alpha’s book and the plot is still interesting in principle, but he’s got no idea what the last two sentences he’s read actually said. He checks back up a little further and really, he’s got no idea about the rest of the page, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a sigh, he closes the book, finger held loosely between the pages to mark his spot. He lets his head fall against the armchair and lets his eyes slip closed, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d thought reading would be good. That it would help alleviate the nagging guilt in his stomach. Because he knows the Alpha likes it when Dean reads his writing. That’s something useful. Something that might not make up for how difficult Dean’s been today, but that he could tell the Alpha later. Maybe he could even find another few good questions about the plot. It made the Alpha’s eyes shine with happiness last time and Dean would rather like to make that happen again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. It would be so much easier if the Alpha had turned out to be like one of his brothers. Oh, Dean would be hurting much more, busy keeping his cries of pain as silent as possible, possibly hating himself for how fast he broke for a new master and started begging for - anything really. A scrap of food. A respite from the pain. A chance to please his master. It would be terrifying and painful and - </span>
  <em>
    <span>familiar</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There’d be none of this heartache. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean is pretty sure Castiel would be horrified at the thought of Dean naked on the floor, crying and begging. He’d pick Dean up and drape a blanket around him and ask him what’s wrong and feed him more food and give him juice and hugs if he wanted them or leave him alone like right now if Dean wanted that. Like Dean getting coddled is more important than whatever the Alpha wants or needs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes Dean feel so goddamn fucking guilty. Because Castiel gives him all of these niceties, allows him so many freedoms, and all Dean repays it with is by having one breakdown after another. If he hadn’t met Gabriel, he’d say that they’re all right after all, his dad and the trainers at the facility and his old masters and society as a whole. That it just messes with an omega’s mind too much to own clothes and have choices and be free of pain. That omegas can’t be content like that. That they have to be physically kicked to the floor to know that that’s the place where they belong. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only Dean thinks that if anyone tried to kick Gabriel, he’d scratch their eyes out. And the thought of Balthazar making Gabriel </span>
  <em>
    <span>beg </span>
  </em>
  <span>for anything is downright hilarious. The way Gabriel had growled protectively over his nest, he’s pretty damn sure the Alpha would never dare enter there uninvited, either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now Dean’s pretty sure that even with all that fancy marriage contract talk, Balthazar could physically make Gabriel do what he wants. He could corner him unawares and use his Alpha strength to subdue him. Only, after having met the two, that thought seems laughable as well. Dean’s gotten to know Gabriel more than his mate, mostly due to the fact that Dean does not want to talk to any Alpha other than his own, but he got the distinct feeling that Balthazar would punch anyone trying to subdue Gabriel, including himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe, maybe the Alpha </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>get something out of it. Out of allowing all of that snark and the nest he’s not supposed to be in. A loyalty not born out of fear but love. An omega who doesn’t submissively bear being fucked, but who is obviously into his Alpha’s affections. A partner to travel with. To share his life with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The latter a function that a beta might fill in their society. Only, beta and Alpha scents don’t usually match, not the way Gabriel’s and Balthazar’s scents match. Or Dean’s and Castiel’s for that matter. Which is why mating bonds between an Alpha and a beta rarely take. And omegas carry Alpha offspring. A pup carried by a beta will just turn out beta themselves. So if an Alpha wants to continue their bloodline, they have to go find a mare. And even before any breeding happens - for betas taking a knot is painful, if they can take it at all. And in opposition to pets, they have the choice not to allow it. So really, finding everything in one person - a lover, a pup-bearer, a companion, a life-partner - is basically impossible for an Alpha in their society. No wonder that loving pair bonds are so rare when you can never get everything you want from them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, there are exceptions of course. Dean’s parents for one. He shrinks a little deeper into the blanket. Their mating bond took. They’d paid a heavy price for it, their bond an </span>
  <em>
    <span>abomination </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the world because Alphas do not mate each other and even worse, Alphas do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>bear children. It’s what killed his mother and was supposed to kill him and Sam as well. Because they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>abominations</span>
  </em>
  <span>, too, born from two Alphas instead of just one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s pretty goddamn certain that not a word of that is written in his papers anywhere. Master Michael was not a fan of abominations, and he’d never have allowed one to live under his roof. Dean’s not quite so certain about Castiel. There’ve been no sermons yet, no preaching of any kind. Dean’s pretty sure Castiel wouldn’t care too much how and by whom Dean was born. Still, Dean’s got plenty of faults on his own without bringing his heritage into play. He wasn’t lying when he said that he was not prime genetic material, but since the Alpha doesn’t plan on having him carry a pup, it won’t matter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes he thinks that maybe his birth is the moment from which everything went wrong in his life. Maybe, seeing how he was the abomination that sealed the bond between his mother and his father, he is the one being punished for it. And then in the next moment, he always fervently hopes that it really is just him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Sammy, of course, is also an abomination. But he is only the second-born. His birth changed nothing, other than that he started existing in the world. Dean doesn’t think that that's a punishable offense. It shouldn’t be, anyway. And he’s more than willing to take all the punishment for the both of them. As long as his brother is safe, he doesn’t care what they do to him. Never has.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only now, no one is doing anything to Dean anymore. He hasn’t been punished in at least a month. Probably more. Because even way before Castiel, Master Michael and Master Lucifer had been too distracted by their fight with each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean very much hopes that that doesn’t mean anything bad for his brother. That some cosmic scale is not swinging towards making his brother miserable while Dean is coming up for air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, Dean. Of course I would help you find your brother.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Dean should take the Alpha up on that offer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought isn’t a happy one, either. Dean was a big brother once, proud of how well he managed to protect Sammy. How well he cared for him. And now? Now he’s so broken that he can’t find the courage inside himself to look up his brother on the internet, even though the Alpha gave him all the necessary tools. Now he has to rely on the Alpha to hold his hand even for that if he wants to have any chance at going through with this at all. It is goddamn frustrating, is what it is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he doesn’t have a good way to make it up to the Alpha, either. He can do nothing but be his thoroughly broken self. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He draws his knees even closer to his chest, putting his chin on top of them. He feels morose. It’s made only worse by the fact that he knows that his life is better than it’s ever been. That he knows Cas is out there waiting for him, ready to pull him into a hug. Ready to let him talk like they’re on the same level. Ready to listen to music with him and buy him more clothes and feed him banana bread that he’s baked because he thinks it will be good for Dean’s stomach and also give him the calories and nutrients he needs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s pretty sure that if he asked the Alpha for anything, Castiel would give it to him. And if he couldn’t, he would move Heaven and Earth to try. Even when it’s against his very nature. Like leaving Dean alone in his armchair with his cloud-blanket. Dean should be ecstatic. Instead he’s just sad. Because even with everything, there’s a gap in his heart that the Alpha won’t be able to fill. Because Alphas and omegas do not fall in love. Not when the Alpha owns the omega. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lays his head to the side and looks out of the window, though his eyes are blurry and unfocused and he doesn’t really see anything. He’s crying again, he notices, though it’s small painful hiccups this time. Like his lungs have wrapped around his heart to protect it and have shrunk in the process. So he hiccups quietly and stares into nothing and waits for his chest to expand back to its normal size. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Only it doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart just sits there and hurts while his mind decides to go over everything that makes him unlovable. Over every mistake he’s made in his life. Over every punishment that he’s earned because he wasn’t good enough. Every moment he let someone down, even before he knew he was an omega and not good for anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That thought blooms like a sharp pain, which is expected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only then, something shifts. It’s small and would be almost unnoticeable if not for his sudden inhale of air. It tastes like salt still, Castiel’s earlier sadness lingering and mixing in with the cinnamon that the room is saturated with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas thinks omegas are people in their own right. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip. Cause he keeps thinking about it as pretending to be a beta. But Gabriel doesn’t hide that he’s an omega. Kind of the opposite. He revels in it. And he’s most definitely a person. A mate. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>husband</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s breath hitches. Cas had said that sounded good. That it sounded much better than what their society did. His voice had sounded awed. Like a new possibility had opened up in the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something uncurls in Dean. A new possibility. To be an omega </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>a person. Something warm courses through his veins like slow molasses, warming him up from the inside out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He follows its track, entirely unused to the feeling. He’d say it’s like the tingles of budding arousal, only it isn’t. It feels deeper, less flighty. It still comes with an urge. Not the urge to touch himself, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He only notices that he’s looked away from the window and has oriented himself deeper into the house to where he knows Castiel is after the fact. Like the molasses in his veins is also a compass pointing towards the Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lets the feeling sit for a bit, waits whether it abates on its own. The Alpha wanted to call Crowley and then do some work. He doesn’t need Dean barging in because of some strange feeling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But yeah, thinking about the Alpha doesn’t help. In fact, it’s like the feeling preens with the thoughts of Castiel. If an emotion could puff out its chest it would as it reminds Dean how much pleasure the Alpha finds in Dean’s company. How often he smiles. How gently he touches. How he likes Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s a good Alpha, but you’re a good omega, too,</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what the feeling is saying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shudders because he hasn’t even figured it out. What that means here. Being a good omega. It doesn’t mean any of the things he was taught, that’s the only thing he really knows. It doesn’t mean letting someone else forge you into whatever they want. Only, Dean’s got no idea what it means to be an omega at all, if it’s not that. If it’s not obedience to the point of not existing. He has no reference for that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s start figuring it out by being near our Alpha. Let him soothe the hurt with his gentleness,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the feeling insists and Dean almost feels the Alpha’s fingers ghosting over his wrist and his elbow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha left this room sad. He left because he thought Dean needed space from him and it made him sad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, that feels like a great unfairness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s on his feet before he’s consciously decided that he’s in fact going to do this. But now that he’s in motion, the pull and urge is even stronger than before. He has to go find the Alpha. He has to be close. It’s the only thing that’ll help. It’s the only thing he knows for certain that he wants right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He still takes care to be extra quiet, tapping his toes to the floor without making a sound. The Alpha is in his office, clicking away on his keyboard. Dean watches it from the door for a moment before turning around silently to get his throw pillow from the living room couch. He hesitates when he comes back, biting his lip as he thinks. The Alpha hasn’t noticed him yet, he could turn around, bring the pillow back and pretend he was never here. But he doesn’t. Instead, he pushes into the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have knocked, probably, but he’s clutching his pillow to his chest and - </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha looks up at him, noticing his presence even though he was still quiet. Maybe there is enough apprehension in his scent for Castiel to smell it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you mind some company?” Dean’s voice comes out subdued, and he hears it, too. It’s not Charlie’s sunshiney presence entering the room, it’s a plea to feel the same way as Dean does. A plea not to make him be alone. Even though the Alpha had done that for Dean’s benefit. Had given him the space to relax and calm down. Only, it hadn’t worked right now. At least not in the way it was supposed to. It had just brought up this urge to come here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s forehead wrinkles as he tries to figure Dean out, though by the way the wrinkles don’t smoothen out he doesn’t manage. Still, he gives Dean a small smile and his voice is warm when he says, “I’m always happy about your company.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean really doubts that, but he takes it as the permission it is and puts his pillow down next to Cas’ chair to kneel on it. He’s quick about it, so that he’s already kneeling before the Alpha can stop him. “I don’t want to disturb you. I just…” Though of course he doesn’t have a reason to be here other than ‘there’s this molasses in my veins and it wants me to do this’. Which sounds too fucking weird for him to ever say out loud. But he craves contact and he doesn’t mind kneeling if it allows him to be close. In fact, the familiarity of the position, like always, settles something inside him. Which is all much too complicated to explain to the Alpha right now when the molasses also slows down his brain. So he breaks off and straightens his spine into good posture. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can feel Cas’ eyes on him. And yeah, Cas doesn’t really understand this part, Dean’s aware. He never wants Dean to kneel. Like he thinks it’s hurting Dean or humiliating him. Dean’s not sure he can still be humiliated after having been a pet for so long. But he knows that even if he can, this isn’t it. This is him choosing to be close to his Alpha. This is him being exactly where he wants to be. “Please, Cas,” he murmurs a little desperately because he knows that he wouldn’t be okay if Cas threw him out of the room right now. He’s got no experience to draw on, but he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> that the warm molasses would turn to screeching fire if he got rejected by his Alpha. And he really doesn’t want to break down like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Cas says, his voice accepting even though it’s clear that he still doesn’t understand. His hand comes up to Dean’s hair to ruffle through it. Dean eagerly leans into the touch. “Thank you for bringing your pillow. Can you scoot a little closer to me so that we can get you a little more comfortable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean immediately obeys, sliding both his pillow and himself closer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, that’s good,” Castiel praises and the feeling inside Dean preens under the praise. He’s an omega, yes, but he’s also a good omega. He does things right and his Alpha notices. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel gently pushes at Dean’s shoulder until he slides out of his perfect posture and is leaning against Cas’ knee. “How does that feel? Is that comfortable?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S almost too nice,” Dean mumbles because his eyes are already slipping closed, his body relaxing in the Alpha’s presence. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “Know you don’t want my knees to hurt. Just don’t want to disturb you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not disturbing me,” Cas answers and scratches Dean’s scalp. “Also, there’s no such thing as too nice. Not here. Okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods against Cas’ knee, willing his mind to accept that. Cause there’s warmth spreading through him, slow and sirupy, and it’s really nice and he doesn’t want to think about whether he deserves it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in the middle of a chapter and planning on maybe another hour of work. Will you please let me know if this position starts hurting before I’m finished?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmmh,” Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t seem to sound too convincing, his molasses-brain too pliant to put emphasis behind the sentiment, because Castiel’s voice gets a little more firm, “I mean it. If your leg falls asleep or your knees hurt or there’s a crick in your neck, I want you to tell me. Immediately.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel has no problem scrounging up enough emphasis and Dean’s body registers it as a command. “Yes, Alpha,” Dean promises and then, because he remembers that that had been the wrong address earlier and had made the Alpha’s scent sad, “Thank you, Cas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That seems to work because Castiel’s scent turns a little sweeter and he cards his fingers through Dean’s hair once more before turning back to his computer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The typing is irregular to start with. Like the Alpha has to adjust to Dean being here. It makes familiar guilt nag at Dean’s heart - because of course he is the one who disturbed the Alpha’s writing flow - but it’s surprisingly easy to shut up once he tries. Maybe because the Alpha’s scent isn’t sad anymore, but has cinnamon and apples again, and really, the Alpha smells like the best thing ever. Probably because he is the best thing ever, Dean thinks with a smile and feels himself go completely pliant, mind calming down, muscles relaxing. He exhales a deep breath, because in this moment, all is right with the world. There is the sweetness of his scent and the warmth of Cas’ leg, the softness of the pillow under Dean’s knees and the way the Alpha basically fills his senses. Dean’s exactly where he wants to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Breathe in, breathe out. Shoulders sinking down a little further. Breathe in, breathe out. Jaw relaxing and eyelids fluttering a few times before staying closed. Breathe in, breathe out.  Cinnamon and vanilla and apple filling his lungs and keeping him safe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s easy, no counting needed to calm himself down, just a slow pull downwards, letting his mind sink, going from working in overdrive to a pleasantly blank buzz where the world shrinks down to the warmth of the Alpha beside him and the regular inhale and exhale of his breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembers it, in a fuzzy kind of way, that these are some of his better memories, when everything was quiet and he was being good. He doesn’t remember it ever being quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>nice before, never had the molasses to help. Always had it somewhere in the back of his mind that it wasn’t safe, letting himself go under. Never anyone there to be gentle, always the expectation of pain. Always a scent that was too sharp, words that were too cruel, hands that were too harsh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not here, though. Nothing will harm him here. The only thing that was hurting him earlier was his own thoughts. Cause the Alpha doesn’t hurt him. He slings his arms around the Alpha’s leg because he’s grateful. Also, maybe, because he wants to be even closer to the warmth. It prompts the Alpha to pet his hair again and Dean pushes his whole head into it without any shame. Especially since it sweetens the Alpha's scent in a way that lasts even when he goes back to typing. The vanilla tells him that the Alpha is happy in their little bubble, too, is happy about Dean being here, which in turn adds a few happy little sparks to Dean's fuzziness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has no idea how much time has passed when the Alpha gently shakes his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hmm?" Dean blinks his eyes open slowly. The room is not as bright as it had been, twilight having crept in. The computer screen is now the brightest point in the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha rubs a hand down his spine, the touch still gentle but with enough pressure to draw Dean's consciousness back into his body. "Do you think you're okay to move?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes stock of his limbs, brain sirupy slow. "Think so."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay. Let me help you up then."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s stiffer than he expected, having knelt without moving for hours without even noticing, and there's a small whimper that escapes his lips before he can swallow it back down when he puts weight on his legs and stretches them out. It draws a cloud of worry around him. He should have told the Alpha. The Alpha asked him to tell him about any discomfort. But Dean had been drifting, mind far away, and hadn’t even noticed the stiffness in his limbs until now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha's scent reacts to Dean’s pain by darkening, but he doesn't scold him. He doesn’t comment at all, saying nothing but, "Let's get you to the couch."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean keeps a hold of his pillow and lets himself be guided to the living room. Cas deposits him on the couch and Dean can’t stop his whine when the Alpha lets go of him. He’s distantly aware that he should probably be embarrassed about it, but his mind is still all molasses and it wants his Alpha close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shhh. It’s okay. I'll be right back."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hugs his pillow closer and watches Cas leave. In fact, he keeps staring at the door right until the Alpha comes back. He carries the cloud-blanket and next thing Dean knows he's draping it over his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Is this okay?" The Alpha asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going to leave again?" Dean asks back and doesn't think he managed to keep the anxiety out of his voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I was going to make us some sandwiches," Cas says and brushes a strand of hair out of Dean's face. "Are you hungry?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hasn't thought about it. He feels like he’s floating, his body not really consequential. Even when he thinks about it, there's no sharp tug in his stomach. Huh. Weird. He's always hungry, isn’t he? He doesn’t remember. All he knows is that right now, what he needs isn’t food. So he shakes his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It darkens the Alpha's scent with worry, which is not something Dean expected. “Okay,” the Alpha accepts Dean’s choice, which is also not something Dean expected. “Let’s turn on a show for a bit, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods to that and the Alpha turns on the TV. He turns it to some nature show, and Dean’s pretty sure that it’s for his benefit because he’d have a hard time following a movie right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, Dean frowns because there’s no physical contact between them anymore. The blanket is nice and soft, but it’s not right. He still thinks about how to articulate that, how to entice the Alpha to let Dean close again, when his body decides for him and another whimper makes its way out of his throat. He follows it up with a whispered, “please,” when the Alpha looks at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s scent turns even more worried. He obviously doesn’t understand, but he says, “Anything you want, Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That doesn’t sound right. Dean never gets everything he wants. But the Alpha’s said it and the Alpha’s word is law, so Dean crawls over. Turning away from the TV, he straddles the Alpha, careful to keep his weight on his knees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sounds somewhat shocked, but Dean already buries his nose in the crook of his neck. He doesn’t really scent, not without permission, but he hides his face in the Alpha’s neck so that his scent surrounds him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s arms come up around him, and yeah, this feels better. This feels right. Then the Alpha’s hand comes up to his forehead, and Dean doesn’t like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm, you feel warm,” the Alpha says, the undertone of worry getting ever more prominent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M okay, Alpha,” Dean reassures him and nuzzles close. "You smell real nice. Thank you for being so nice. Really ‘ppreciate it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It does what it's supposed to and distracts the Alpha from his worry, his scent fluttering between emotions. "Can you explain to me what is happening?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean whines a little because he doesn't think he's got that many words. "Just need to be close to you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because you're a pet?" Cas asks suspiciously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shakes his head vehemently. This has nothing to do with that. Being a pet is for the Alphas of the world, this here is for him. But maybe it's still too close to being what the Alpha doesn’t want him to be. Dean is basically sitting in the Alpha's lap after all, even if he's making sure to carry his own weight. "Do you want me gone, Alpha?" He asks and doesn’t even recognize his own voice, it’s so small and scared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha wrinkles his nose and almost sneezes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry," Dean says immediately because he knows his fearful scent is the reason for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel rubs a hand over his nose and shakes his head. "I wish I could smell all of you to figure out what is going on." He taps a finger against Dean's thigh, which is trembling. Dean hadn't noticed. "If this is what you want, then at least relax." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean wrinkles his forehead. "'S gonna put my weight on you," he points out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm aware," Castiel answers drily. "Pretty sure I’m not going to break. Come on."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yeah, Castiel is a strong Alpha and Dean is too tall for an omega, but Alpha strength lets Cas carry him without much discomfort. Dean's still a bit cautious, in case it was a trick command. But it wasn't because Castiel pulls him closer, arms circling him under the blanket as Dean sinks into the Alpha’s chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wonders about putting his own arms around the Alpha's neck, but then he'd have to make them leave the enclosed space between them where everything is warm shared air and he doesn't want that. So all he does is grab the Alpha's shirt and let himself be held. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes him a while to let the sirup take back over. Yeah, he wanted this. Needed this. Initiated it, even. But where kneeling had been familiar - fuzzy painfree memories attached to it - this here is new. The memories he has in an Alpha's lap are not of being held in a safe hug. Of being covered in warmth. His best case scenario was being held still while warming his master's cock. Which, he wouldn't begrudge Cas that if he wanted it. Not if Cas still hugged him all strong but gentle and let him be warm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that’s the best part, how everything is so nice and warm. It makes the molasses pulse through him in slow sated beats and makes it hard to concentrate. In fact, it makes it hard to keep his eyes open even though there's a small part of him that is against giving in to the impulse to sink down again. That tells him that in difference to when he was kneeling before, now he's made all of his comfort dependent on the Alpha not throwing him off. That thinks he's gonna get hurt if he closes his eyes and lets himself drift and trust this. But the warm apple pie scent lulls even that part of him. It isn't gone, Dean doesn't think, but its bitching is quiet and ineffective. Background noise that is easily ignored. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he lets his mind drift away from the noise, allows it to focus only on his Alpha's strong hands holding him and how he can feel his chest rise with each of his breaths. He puts a hand over the Alpha's heart, wanting to feel the beat of life within him. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Strong and steady like the Alpha himself. He sighs a happy sigh, letting his face rest in the crook of the Alpha’s neck, snuggling as close as he can and ignoring how confused it makes the Alpha’s scent in favor of keeping his eyes closed and giving himself over to the sensation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha asks softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmh,” Dean grumbles softly because he knows he’s supposed to answer his Alpha, but also he doesn’t want to be ripped out of the nice warmth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you feel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good, Alpha,” he answers because it’s true. “You’re very good to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, what I mean is - does anything hurt? Your stomach? Your head? Your throat maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s never even used Dean’s mouth so he’s got no idea why his throat should hurt, but that’s too many words to string together, so Dean just shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think you might, uhh, be experiencing the first stages of a heat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean frowns at that. He doesn’t like heats. Heats hurt. But nothing hurts right now, so he quickly dismisses the thought. He shakes his head again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure? Because I think you may be running a temperature and you’re - uhh, not quite behaving like you usually do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s knotting his hands into Cas’ shirt before he’s even consciously aware of it. “Please don’t make me go.” It doesn’t come out above a whisper, Dean’s body tensing, if much more sluggishly than normal. But he still expects to be pushed off. Because holding on is not allowed, no matter how nice it is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh Dean,” Castiel sighs and tightens his grip on Dean, nuzzling his face into Dean’s hair. Sniffing at him not so subtly, then sighing again and pressing a kiss to the crown of Dean’s head. “I can’t smell it, I’m sorry. If I could read you, I could figure out how to help so much better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sounds contrite and unhappy with himself and that’s just wrong. “You’re the best Alpha ever. You’re perfect.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes the Alpha chuckles softly. “Thank you, Dean. That’s a very nice compliment, even if it isn’t true.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Totally is,” Dean grumbles because no one gets to say mean stuff about his Alpha, not even his Alpha. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Castiel agrees. “We’ll accept it for now and then we’ll see what you say about it when you’re in a different headspace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmpf,” Dean rumbles quietly, the disagreement lodged somewhere in his chest, but only spilling out as a soft protest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay with me holding you close like this? Do you want to stay like this for a while?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods his enthusiastic agreement to both of these questions, though somehow the enthusiasm doesn’t translate into a very energetic movement. He feels the final bit of tension drop out of his muscles as the Alpha’s arms are holding him safe. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Easter to those of you who celebrate!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Dean opens his eyes, he’s in bed. He blinks, startled. He’s not supposed to be in bed. They just got up, right? The Alpha wanted to do clothes shopping. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wait - that already happened. Yesterday?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean turns around and finds the Alpha reading something on his tablet. “Is it still today or already tomorrow?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean! You’re awake!” The Alpha bolts upright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Dean furrows his brow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you remember?” The Alpha asks back, suddenly cagey. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh, clothes shopping?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We did that,” the Alpha confirms. “And after?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S fuzzy after that,” Dean frowns. He’d say it feels like he got drugged, only that leaves him nauseous and too cold and he’s neither of these things. “Got morose when I was alone. Felt, umm,” he blushes a little, “this need to be close to you. Went to find you. Knelt next to you in the office?” he guesses, though the memory is vague. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” the Alpha nods in confirmation. “And after that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are flashes of being held close, but they’re too disjointed to make much sense to him. “Turtles?” Dean says with a frown. “That makes no sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas chuckles softly. “It does, actually. You crawled into my lap and asked me to hold you close. A nature show was running in the background. There was a whole segment about turtles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did what?” Dean asks, mortified. The turtles are definitely not the important part of that story. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As you said, you had an intense urge to be close. You fell asleep on me and I carried you to bed. That was two days ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Fear immediately courses through Dean. “That can’t be. That was just - I lost two days?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you lost two nights. And a day and a half. I could tell that things were calming down this morning because you didn’t fight me when I needed to go to the bathroom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did what?” Dean whispers, not even sure anymore what to say because the mortification is just overwhelming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been assured that it’s perfectly normal. Or rather, not necessarily </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal </span>
  </em>
  <span>in its entirety but not unexpected under the circumstances.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks, his brain not managing to catch up. “You’ve been assured?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel nods. “Do you feel up for more information about this already? Because it took me a moment to understand it all, so if you’re still feeling somewhat out of it, we can wait. I promise you that it’s nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kinda too late for that,” Dean grimaces. “Kinda worried already. I mean, I know I lose a few minutes here and there, but two days? That’s -,” he bites his lip, but plunges ahead, “that only ever happened when they put something in my food.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel looks horrified at the implication, which tells Dean the answer he needed without ever outright asking the question, “Dean, I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. I know that,” Dean shrugs helplessly because he really did know that and he didn’t feel any of the normal side-effects from being drugged anyway, but also he’s got no idea what else might have happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Can I ask you a question, Dean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"’Course," Dean nods because the Alpha can always ask him questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you remember when you had your last heat?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Humor me, please?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Uhhh," Dean tries to think back. His time at the manor blends together in a way that makes it hard to differentiate the years. His routine had basically always been the same. But he thinks it was before Master Lucifer had renovated his bedroom because he doesn’t remember being strung up on the new hooks, which would have been agonizing with the fever and thus definitely something Master Lucifer would have enjoyed. "It's been - a few years?" He hazards, not really sure how to narrow it down any more than that. "But Cas, whatever happened in the past few days, that wasn't a heat."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No,” Castiel agrees, “it wasn't. According to the best guess the doctor Gabriel put me in touch with could make without coming by, it was a so-called </span>
  <em>
    <span>demi-heat</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you just make that word up?" Dean asks dubiously because he's never heard about that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel chuckles. "I assure you I didn't. The best I understood it, it happens when an omega is, umm, when their inner omega is ready for a heat, but their body isn't. The hormones are all there, but the, umm, the fertility isn't."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Dean a moment to parse that, but then his face heats up in a way that he's sure he's blushing scarlet. "You saying my, uhh, omega decided it wanted you to fill me up with pups, but my body couldn't keep up?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Something like that," Castiel nods. “Though I’m not sure species reproduction really is the driving force behind this. Apparently, oxytocin levels are what’s off the chart in demi-heat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh God," Dean groans and hides his face behind his hands because </span>
  <em>
    <span>species reproduction </span>
  </em>
  <span>is a thing he doesn’t want to do and even if Cas is talking about this all clinical, it’s still embarrassing as fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Doctor Leahy said I should take it as a great honor that your omega trusts me enough for this. Apparently it doesn't happen that often." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can just imagine that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"She would like to check you over eventually because you were very out of it and while some fuzziness is expected, especially since it looks like endorphin, dopamine and oxytocin levels were high enough to allow you to reach omega-space, if there are no memories at all, then it's important to see whether everything is okay. With your consent of course."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean doesn’t understand half the words in there, but he does understand that Cas wants him to eventually see this doctor, so he grimaces. "Yeah, umm, okay, I guess," he stammers because maybe agreeing and never talking about it will get him out of it. Then another thought comes to him. "Wait, did you… did we…" For lack of words, he repeats the gesture Gabriel had used. He racks his brain, but there are no memories of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No memories of the intense need to be filled that usually makes a heat so painful, either. All he remembers is the just as intense urge to be as close as possible to his Alpha.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, of course not! Dean, you were - very sweet and clingy, but you weren’t... You wanted to scent me and to, well, cuddle. And that's what we did. Other than that I made sure that you ate and drank and were comfortable. I think you inner omega may have needed a break from being stressed out all of the time. You didn’t actually want to, umm, make pups."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean swallows because now that Cas says it, some memories come back after all. Cas wiping his face with a warm washcloth, Dean turning without resistance in every which direction Cas wanted him to turn. Dean eating small bites of apple, Cas feeding them to him piece by piece because Dean would ignore the plate when it was placed on his lap for him to feed himself. Dean whining when Cas got up to leave the room - to go to the kitchen or bathroom, Dean doesn't know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face burns. "The way I - you could have done anything to me." Dean’s heart beats fast, the memories clearly showing him that he had given himself over completely to the Alpha, his consciousness slipping away into - what had Cas called it? - omega-space. He hadn’t known that that was a thing. Back at the manor the only place his mind had fled to was the one when there was too much pain. It also makes him lose time, but it feels nothing the same. Now though, back on the surface, his mind already can’t comprehend how he could have trusted </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>that much. Even with a full heat, he’d always clawed his way back to the surface, no matter how much his omega would have needed to let go. Being alert is what makes him respond to commands. It makes him stay safe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I wouldn't take advantage of you like that. And I will always give you what you need."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shudders at the words because his old masters had definitely told him about </span>
  <em>
    <span>giving him what he needs</span>
  </em>
  <span>, too. He knows that's not the way Castiel means it, but it still makes him wiggle his hips experimentally. The fact that Dean’s not naked but is wearing sweatpants is an indication already, but more than that there's no telltale pain in his ass. Cas didn’t lie, he didn’t fuck Dean while he was out of it. Dean kind of thinks he'd remember it, too, if that had happened. Maybe not in clear images or anything, but he'd have some kind of gut reaction to remind him that trusting Cas is not a good idea. And he finds no trace of suspicion that would warn him away from the Alpha. Quite the opposite. There’s a warm glow inside him, like the molasses has hardened into amber and is around to stay.  "Thanks," he mumbles. "For, you know, everything."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas smiles at him. “You’re very welcome, Dean. I admit that I was very worried in the beginning, but after I messaged the doctor and knew what was happening, I found it quite natural and pleasant to accommodate your needs. Though admittedly, I was still nervous, so I’m glad that I seem to have managed to care for you well enough. That was a lot of responsibility with something that I don’t have any experience with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Dean apologizes automatically, though he’s also blinking away disbelief. The Alpha was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nervous</span>
  </em>
  <span>? About treating Dean right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, please don’t apologize. You allowed me to share in something deep and important, and as I said, I’m honored that you trust me enough for it. I want to prove myself worthy of that trust.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s first reaction is to be taken aback. The sentence sounds insane, an Alpha having to prove himself worthy. Back when he first got here, Dean would have definitely thought it a lie. A game, like Master Lucifer played. Now, though, the longer the sentence sinks in, the more it resonates, the amber inside him glowing brightly. It almost feels like - a kind of smug satisfaction. Like his inner omega is really self-satisfied because it asked a question that the Dean that’s on the surface wouldn’t even have dared ask, and got the answer they both wanted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas can be trusted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even when Dean’s not alert. When he can’t be good because he’s too out of it to listen. Cas will be there, kind and gentle and patient and - loving. Even if he’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>in love</span>
  </em>
  <span>, there’s still no mistaking that Cas cares. Really, honestly, deeply cares. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It settles something inside Dean that he hadn’t known needed settling. Well, not consciously anyway, seeing how his inner omega was a step ahead of him apparently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you, uhh, did you ever get around to researching scent bonds?” Dean asks and the question has less fear attached than it would have two days ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did, but it didn’t really lead to much new insight,” Castiel weighs his head. “I googled some while we were, well, snuggled together, but apparently our particular circumstances are not that common. I asked the doctor whether she can find some medical journal papers from Europe, where it’s more normal that an Alpha and an omega develop a bond. My condition will still be rare there, but at least with more bonds happening overall, there is a better chance that something got written about a similar case. She took it as a challenge. We'll see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You told a stranger about it?" Dean frowns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Should I not have?" Castiel asks, face scrunching up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, you can. Of course you can. It's just - you told me that you don’t like telling people about your scenting issue."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh," Castiel says surprised. "I told her about that, didn't I? I didn't even think about it. I just wanted to know. And well, she's not my doctor, but she's </span>
  <em>
    <span>a</span>
  </em>
  <span> doctor, so I think she'll keep everything we discussed confidential."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, she probably will,” Dean shrugs. As an omega, doctor-patient-confidentiality doesn't apply to him any more than it applies to the sink when the plumber repairs it. The Alpha's gotta know what he's paying for after all. Though the sink can't really be punished for the bill being too high, so Dean guesses it’s at an advantage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She was upset with me that I didn’t have you checked out immediately after I got you from my brothers,” Castiel admits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sick, Alpha,” Dean protests. “I mean, I guess I was, but I’m already all better. You don’t have to waste your money on a doctor.” It’s the best argument he’s got as anxiety curls in his stomach at the thought of a doctor tying him down and poking at him. Even when he’s pretty sure that Cas won’t allow any doctor the same favors his old masters did, the rest of it will still be the same. It’ll hurt all the much more now that he’s used to clothes and a bit of dignity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean,” Castiel scoots forward and puts a hand on Dean’s knee. “Breathe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks and he breathes and yeah, okay, he went into panic mode pretty fast there. Faster than is usual for him, even. And maybe, just maybe, a part of that had been the thought of someone who’s not his Alpha touching him in all of those places - more than that, touching him there </span>
  <em>
    <span>before </span>
  </em>
  <span>his Alpha ever does it. And isn’t that a nice fucked up thought to have? “Ugh, okay, maybe I’m not quite back to normal yet. But I’m gonna be,” he hurries to assure. “Really. I mean, I’m awake and coherent and won’t start to cry if you go to the kitchen or anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s supposed to be a joke, but it falls flat. The Alpha squeezes Dean’s knee in sympathy. “Demi-heat is not a sickness, Dean. Quite the opposite. It’s your body starting to restore normal functions. It’s a good thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean huffs at that, though he does it quietly. “Being out cold for two days doesn’t sound like a normal bodily function to me.” Though </span>
  <em>
    <span>out cold</span>
  </em>
  <span> might be the wrong wording because every one of the hazy memories Dean can attach to this time is tinged in a soft warm glow that makes him feel all gooey inside. He’s got no idea what he thinks about that. Maybe it’s safer not to think about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is when it’s a sign of you getting stronger and healthier. Good things do happen, Dean.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounds softly chiding. Like Castiel thinks Dean doesn’t appreciate getting stronger and healthier. Which is not true at all. “Just wishing I could be more of a help and less of a burden to you, Alpha. That’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It comes out meek because Dean never likes admitting his flaws, even when they’re already out in the open for everyone to see. And the Alpha’s definitely been seeing this part, what with the extra dose of omega neediness and clinginess in the past few days. Dean’s not even been able to take care of his own basic needs. The Alpha had had to feed him by hand, for God’s sake! Like Dean’s some kind of toddler. And his omega isn’t only not embarrassed about it, he’s downright gleeful, revelling in the way the Alpha had taken care of him. His inner omega doesn’t even have the decency to act like being surprised by this, having not only wanted but completely </span>
  <em>
    <span>expected </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Alpha to put his life on hold for a few days to take care of Dean. Dean feels like all of that is such insolent behavior that it should be punished severely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” The Alpha’s hand tugs at Dean’s knee. “Come here, please?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just thought about being punished, but he doesn't even hesitate. His inner omega purrs and he scoots over. Because that's where they're at apparently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets rewarded with Castiel pulling him into a tight hug. “I enjoy seeing you happy, Dean. I enjoy being able to make you happy. And for all that it was freaking me out when you weren't coherent, it was beautiful to see you have these long stretches of being utterly content. I didn't even need to be able to smell you to know, it was visible. I’ve never seen you so calm. You deserved this break so much."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lets himself be hugged, but his stomach tugs uncomfortably. Deserving good things is not a concept that exists in his world. Not even before he presented. Cas is just so kind that he doesn’t see it, how much less effort he’d have to put into this and still have Dean follow him around like a puppy because it’s the best he’s ever had. And Dean is too weak to point it out because of course he’s drawn to Cas’ kindness like a moth to the flame. He just wishes he’d have a way to even the score between them. That the Alpha would take something for himself. At least at the manor, Dean worked hard for every scrap he got, so he never had to feel guilty when he got them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever you’re thinking right now, it’s either in the past or not true,” Castiel says sternly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean huffs silently and looks away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I wrong?” Castiel asks and runs a hand through Dean’s hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s really hard to stay concentrated while Cas is doing that. “The Alpha’s always right,” Dean grumbles, though it sounds petulant in his own ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel chuckles. “Then you should believe me when I say that you deserve all the good things in the world and that you have nothing to fear here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha’s caught Dean in a trap and he knows it by the mischievousness that lights up his eyes even while he tries to keep his face stern. Dean huffs again, but he also lets his body go lax against the Alpha, relaxing in a way he hadn’t done before. Trusting the Alpha. “Okay, Cas,” he mumbles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel presses a kiss to his forehead, his scent soft and warm. Content. “For the record, I don’t believe that Alphas are always right, not in general and not me in particular. But I’m pretty sure that I’m right on this one. There is no reason whatsoever for your scent to get as sharp as it did. You’re safe here and you did deserve this break. I talked about that a bit with Charlie,” he admits, “about how overwhelming it must be for you still. I’m sorry that I don’t always understand. I’m trying, but I haven’t lived your life. I don’t always see when something that seems harmless to me is too much for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like clothes shopping,” Dean sighs. He remembers that that triggered his initial breakdown. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For example,” Cas nods. He points towards the dresser. “I hope you don’t mind that I ordered what was needed. It already got delivered.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are several rather large packages stacked next to the dresser. Dean sits up straight, his eyes going wide. “All of that is for me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Dean,” Castiel smiles fondly. “It’s for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That won’t even fit in my drawer!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t have to. I took the liberty of ordering a jacket for you after all, so that goes in the hallway closet. The shoes, too. And if there’s still not enough space, I’ll clean out a second drawer for you. It’s only right that your clothes should take up half of the space in the dresser.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s yet another thing that’s not true, of course. Dean shouldn’t take up any space at all. Well, the space where he’s physically standing or kneeling, he gets to take up that space. But that’s it. “Alpha…” Dean’s got no idea what to even say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, I’m doing it again,” Castiel sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Overwhelming you. When I’m sure you’re still a little groggy after the past few days. Okay, okay. What do you want to do? Do you want to rest some more or would you rather get up?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean chokes on a burst of laughter because </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Of course the Alpha would follow up the insight that Dean’s overwhelmed with more </span>
  <em>
    <span>choices</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Because what could go wrong with that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when the Alpha looks at him questioningly, Dean waves him off. “It’s okay, Alpha. I can make that choice. Because, like, I remember you wiping my face with a washcloth and stuff, but to be honest, I’m still pretty gross. So I think, maybe a shower?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel frowns at him. “Are you sure you’re stable enough for that? I don’t want you to fall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s only one way to figure that out - getting up. So Dean does that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His legs wobble a little, pretty much like they always feel when he didn’t get to use them for a few days. Though the rest of him feels much less stiff and in pain than he expected. Then of course, the things that made him unable to walk at the manor were about as far away from cuddling in bed for two days as you can get. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think I’m fine,” Dean says after carefully shifting his weight a few times. “No dizziness or nausea or anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel doesn’t look all the way convinced, but he nods. “Alright. What do you say, I make us some light lunch while you shower?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can prepare the food, Alpha, you don’t have to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re still recuperating. You go shower and see whether you might like to wear some of your new clothes, I make food.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It brooks no argument, so Dean nods. Though he’s racking up a debt here that he’s pretty sure he can never repay. Which, even though he’s pretty certain that the Alpha never plans on making him repay it, still makes him itchy. The concept that niceness might not come at a price doesn’t want to sink in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s already under the warm shower spray - making sure he doesn’t turn the water up too hot, so that he doesn’t get dizzy after all - when he notices how much like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person </span>
  </em>
  <span>that thinking is. A pet can’t rack up debts anymore than a sink can. Though again, the metaphor ends where the punishments begin. But in the end, someone who’s already owned, mind and body not his own, has nothing to give. Only free people barter and trade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean huffs at himself. He feels like he is diametrically at odds with himself. His inner omega is purring away happily under Cas’ ministrations, to the point where it knocks his consciousness out and drags him into a fluffy amber-colored world that’s apparently called omega-space. All the while, the rest of Dean is frantically scrambling to come to terms with suddenly having a modicum of freedom and choices and being treated like a person because that’s not supposed to be a thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He freezes in his motion when a sudden thought strikes him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s really got no idea who he is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just like with the clothes, he has to fall back on the realities of his life when he was 13 years old and not yet presented. When oweing a classmate a favor meant it was eventually going to be collected. When racking up debt meant Dean had to find five-finger-discounts instead of going back to their normal store. Or doing - other stuff to even things out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seems laughable now, the stuff that made him gag and be disgusted with himself at 13. Maybe that’s what the training facility had seen in him. Every quick handjob behind a gas station or blowjob in a dirty bathroom stall. Maybe they had seen that while he hadn’t let anyone fuck him, he’d already gone down on his knees. Had done so out of his own choice, before they ever forced him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs and scrubs at his body with renewed force, like he can scrub off the old feelings with the Alpha’s ridiculous body-wash. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d had pitifully few options from the get go, of course. In some ways, it hadn’t changed much when they were taken away because being free for him often had been strikingly similar to Master Lucifer’s games. Choose the one thing that hurts over the other thing that hurts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had it been harder or easier before he presented? Both and neither, Dean decides. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harder, because being a person, he’d felt the full brunt of his humiliation. That had fallen away with the rest of him when he’d been shaped into his masters’ perfect pet. Once he’d been unable to hold on to his former self, it had become almost impossible to humiliate him. There wasn’t enough of him left to feel humiliated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In other ways, it had been easier, back before he presented. Because he could never find any sense or purpose in why he had to end up as a pet. He had to be broken down into nothing to become what he was supposed to be because he wouldn’t give himself over without a fight. That had been different when he’d still had a family. When he’d still had Sam. His choices had always been easy then: Whatever would keep Sam safest, that was the choice he had to make. Anything to keep Sammy fed and clothed and in school. It had felt like purpose. Like he was making a difference in the world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean groans and lets the lukewarm water run down his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not gonna get that back. Even if he goes looking and actually finds Sam. Even if Sam is cool like Castiel and talks to him like he’s still his brother. He’s not gonna be his protector anymore. He’s still gonna be an omega bitch owned by a rich Alpha. A very nice and protective rich Alpha, who treats him much better than Dean has any right to expect. Who Dean isn’t even unhappy to be owned by. Who he wants to keep happy because whenever he goes looking for purpose now, that’s what he comes up with: to keep his Alpha happy and satisfied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A wet laugh spills out of him, because God, that actually sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> to him. Like a goal worth aspiring to. And how the hell is he going to explain that to his little brother? If he’s anything like the 10-year-old stubborn jerk Dean was forced to leave behind, it’s not gonna make a lick of sense to Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that he’s gonna find out anytime soon. Because he’s not only unable to help, he’s too broken to even try. Hell, he’s too broken to even look for his brother, though he could. Not only technically could, but has his Alpha’s permission and more than that, his promise of </span>
  <em>
    <span>help</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dean’s one lucky bastard, and it still isn’t enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Because you’d have to face it. If you find Sam, you’re gonna have to face that you’re not who you were. And that you have no idea who you are now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Dean Winchester. I’m an Aqu-,” But no, that’s wrong already. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Dean Novak,” he mumbles on his next try. It comes out like a lie. Like the property he was and on paper still is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Dean.” That, at last, has a ring of truth to it. He’s Dean still. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not much. But it’s a start.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>So many clothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s spread the contents of the delivery boxes on the floor and it’s just so fucking much. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has never owned this many clothes in his life. Not as a toddler, not as a pup, obviously never after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s not only the stuff he and Castiel have decided on together, there are also a couple of soft plaid pyjama bottoms, a dozen pairs of underwear in about as many styles and materials - because Cas didn’t know what Dean’s favorites were, Dean is sure (not that he would have known it himself) -, a hoodie that is lighter in fabric than the one he’s borrowed from Cas and a moss-green sweater that feels as soft to the touch as the cloud-blanket. He fingers that sweater only carefully, sighing at the soft glide of his skin over the knitted pattern. It’s absolutely lovely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But even he knows that wool this soft is expensive as fuck. That sweater alone probably costs more than all the money his former masters spent on clothes for him in a decade. So Dean can’t help it, he can’t enjoy the way the yarn feels under his fingertips. He’s too scared that it’ll rip if he even accidentally brushes against it with his fingernails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shudders. He always tries hard to be careful, and it’s actually been easier here not to be clumsy, what with his full stomach that allows his brain to function well. Still, in a way, he’d like for it to already have happened. That he’d dropped a glass or gotten a stain on a carpet. Not broken the tablet, though. Nothing too expensive. Cause he wants to know how the Alpha reacts when he’s angry at Dean so that he can be prepared for it in the future, but he doesn’t want to try it out with something that extreme. He shudders again, the skin on his back itching where old lash marks are long since healed but will be a reminder of his klutziness for the rest of his life. So yeah, he doesn’t know the Alpha’s reaction, but his own reaction is easy to predict. He’d panic. Of course he would.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. Ever so delicately he folds the sweater. It’s utterly lovely and he’s gonna thank Cas for it profusely, but Dean’s going to adore it where it safely resides in his drawer. He’s not gonna take any risks. So unless Cas orders him to wear it, he won’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Dean chooses the red and black pyjama bottoms and the Led Zeppelin shirt and throws the sweatpants he’d worn the past few days in the laundry bin. He puts as much of the clothes as fits into his drawer and stacks the rest into neat piles. He’s gonna have to ask the Alpha where to put them later. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s almost done when he sees that he’s overlooked a smaller package. “Oh.” He’d forgotten about the socks. He shakes his head at himself. The Alpha has given him socks every day so Dean should remember without being prompted that there are socks. He looks through them, but since he was just thinking about the things he’s done wrong, the burger ones and unfortunately also the pie ones remind him of throwing up, so he chooses the pizza ones instead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t resist and on his way to the kitchen to find the Alpha makes a quick detour to the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops and stares at his reflection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s - hard to even recognize himself. His hair is sticking up in soft tufts, growing out longer than Master Michael ever allowed. No one came to buzz it off in Dean's last month at the manor and Cas doesn't seem inclined to do so, either. With the printed t-shirt and the soft plaid bottoms Dean looks - normal. Like a person who is comfortable in their own home. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hesitates for a second, then puts his thumb on the fingerprint sensor until the collar clicks open and falls away. He catches it in his hand and looks at himself again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, he looks like a person who slept in on a lazy Sunday morning. The dark bags under his eyes are gone, the shirt and pants hide most of his scars and if he squints he doesn’t even look that sickly thin in these clothes that actually fit him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows, unexpected lump in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel said he could leave the collar off in the house.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought produces warring feelings. Castiel’s collar feels a lot like protection and Dean doesn’t want to risk being caught without it. But he remembers how Castiel clicked it open before kissing him and so he wonders. Would it make a difference to Castiel? Would it make a difference to Dean? Would he be more of a person without it somehow? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks at himself again, tries not to have a critical eye for everything that's wrong with him, tries to imagine being a stranger seeing himself through the kitchen window as he's making coffee in the morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The illusion would shatter of course, the moment the stranger catches a whiff of his scent or tries to talk to him, but for that one moment Dean thinks the stranger wouldn't be able to tell. He'd just see a person making coffee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought gives Dean all kinds of feelings that he can't really name. He keeps the collar in his hand as he goes to find Cas. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha sits at the table, two plates with sandwiches in front of him. He's reading something on his phone. That's not what makes Dean stop in his tracks, though. No, that would be the rock music that's playing. The type of music that Dean discovered that he liked. When no music was ever playing before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her must have given his astonishment some kind of sound because Cas looks up. His eyes turn wide as he takes in Dean's new clothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's not much, the t-shirt and PJ pants, but by the way the Alpha looks at him, one could think Dean was dressed to the nines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh Dean, you chose well! This looks very good on you!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean scratches his neck, both somewhat embarrassed at being complimented and feeling quite warm from the way the Alpha is looking at him. He knows he's blushing, but he gives the Alpha a shy smile anyway. "The shirt's pretty cool, isn't it? And I love the pj pants. Thank you. I haven't owned pyjamas since - uhh, basically forever."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well," the Alpha clears his throat. "They were plaid and you liked the plaid flannels, so I thought…" He breaks off. His ears are turning an endearing shade of pink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I love them, Alpha," Dean repeats. And he does. They are soft and comfy, yet warm, and unlike omega clothing they even have pockets. “I, uhh,...” He holds up the collar in his hand insecurely. He doesn’t have any good words to explain this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Dean,” Castiel reassures him. “As long as we’re in the house, it’s completely up to you whether you wear it or not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Cas,” Dean mumbles. “I know that you told me that before, it’s just…” He shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That it didn’t feel safe?” Castiel ventures.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still kinda doesn’t,” Dean admits and comes over to the table to sit down. He puts the collar on the table. “Not because of you!” He hurries to make clear. “Just because, I dunno. The world and stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel nods like he gets it. “But even if it doesn’t feel completely safe, it still doesn’t fit with the Led Zeppelin shirt?” he asks, and okay, yeah, maybe Cas is in fact getting it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean nods. “It kinda - I looked at myself in the mirror and it was kinda cool just seeing a person, you know?” He wrings his hands in his lap where the Alpha can’t see and shrugs his shoulders, a little ashamed, not even sure why he spills all of this to the Alpha other than that apparently he has this urge to confess. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel observes him quietly and Dean’s learned to be wary of quiet contemplation because if his master has to contemplate what he does next, then usually Dean has done something wrong and his master contemplates what punishment will rectify the situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only, Cas isn’t his master. Doesn’t want to be. So Dean takes a deep breath to breathe in the apple and cinnamon and let the scent bond work in his favor. Let it settle him until his hands unclench. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you aware that your eyes keep shifting?” Castiel asks quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Dean frowns. His eyes were solidly green in the mirror earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ve mostly been gold in the past few days. And now they keep shifting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean touches his face somewhat self-consciously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you don’t have to hide,” Castiel stretches an arm out and touches Dean’s hand. “I only mentioned it because - it’s fascinating. You might catch me staring a few times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean lets his hand sink with a small chuckle. “It’s not like prolonged eye contact wasn’t your thing before this already.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It makes Cas smile, even though his ears turn pink again. “Well, I’m glad it’s not too off-putting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean snorts. “You wouldn’t get to off-putting if you tried. You’re just all around way too nice for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty sure you’re the only person who thinks so,” Cas answers drily. “Everyone else would tell you that I’m awkward and standoffish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you’re not. Not with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, the bar that I have to pass for you to be happy with my social skills is fairly low.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s not,” Dean shakes his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas raises an eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Dean insists, “and you can say that I’m arguing again or whatever, but you’re selling yourself short and I don’t like that. Cause yeah, ‘course I’m happy that you don’t beat on me, but that’s not even the half of it and you know it. You know that the kind of trust you inspire isn’t something that happens often.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That makes Cas blush fully, though he also smiles softly. “Can I tell you something? I promise it’s not something that I’m upset about in the slightest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean frowns at that. “Yeah?” He asks insecurely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really do think that we’ve found another part of your personality,” Cas says, smile turning wider by the minute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have?” Dean asks hesitantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel nods. “Dean, I think when you’re being yourself, you are a deeply stubborn person."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean swallows and looks down at his lap. It's not the first time he's been told that. Starting from his dad, people have spent a lot of time beating it out of him. "Sorry, Alpha," he mumbles because even if Castiel said he wasn't upset and even if Dean is not panicking about it this time, it's still not a trait Dean ever wanted to have show up again. It's always been more trouble than it was worth. "I’m trying to be good for you, I swear. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be good." He cringes even while he says it because that’s just words. He should be able to show it better than he has.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But you are," Castiel says emphatically and his hand finds Dean’s knee to squeeze. "See, you being yourself is all I hope for. Because you deserve to be yourself. And selfishly, I want to see every part of you because they’re all beautiful and they’re all </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Shouldn't give me that many clothes then, if you want to see all of me." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a deflection and a clumsy joke, one that's maybe too close to the reality of Dean's life from only a few weeks ago, so Dean's heart beats hard when it takes Castiel a moment to respond. But then the Alpha starts chuckling and Dean's whole body relaxes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>mean it like that," Castiel protests, though the skin around his eyes is still crinkling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It wouldn't be funny if you had," Dean shrugs, trying to sound casual though he's a little proud. He made the Alpha laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true,” the Alpha nods, a somber look replacing the short-lived mirth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S okay, Cas,” Dean immediately soothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just really don’t like what you had to go through.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that,” Dean says. “I know it and I believe you. Enough to have that freaky demi-heat thing and everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas nods, though he also bites his lip. “Can I ask you something about that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pretty sure we’ve established that you can ask anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I don’t want you to feel like you have to answer. Especially when it’s a very personal question.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-oh. What else did I do that I don’t remember?” Dean tries for a light tone, but it comes out worried anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s my question, actually. Are you always this deep under? During your heats, I mean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grimaces because, yeah, that’s a personal question for sure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to answer,” Cas repeats hurriedly. “I just - this might be silly, but I want to be prepared.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Prepared?” Dean frowns. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever prepared for his heats before. Unless Cas means buying a cockcage. He cringes involuntarily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Dean’s really got no idea whether it’s good or bad that he’s this easy to read because he’s got no idea whether it’s gonna make it better or worse if he fesses up right now. But then, if Cas gets disgusted during and refuses to help Dean out at all, it’s gonna hurt. More so than it ever did with Master Lucifer if he’d have to wager a bet. Because that was physical pain only and Dean can handle physical pain. And when he can’t handle it anymore, he just passes out. But he’s got the distinct feeling that Cas - </span>
  <em>
    <span>his Alpha</span>
  </em>
  <span> - being this close while Dean’s need is at its strongest and </span>
  <em>
    <span>rejecting </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? That’s gonna make it the worst heat he’s ever had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have to talk about this.” There’s a hand on his arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. No, it’s okay,” Dean says, but he still pulls his hand back into his lap and knots his fingers together. “‘S just… Uhh. If you wanna prepare you, uhh, should probably aware that, umm…” He breaks off as he can feel the heat of embarrassment flood into his face, “I have, umm, a hard time being a good omega during heat.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, I don’t understand.” When Dean gazes up for a quick moment, the Alpha looks completely lost. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean steels himself. The Alpha’s gonna make him spell this out. “They, uhh, they never managed to train me out of reacting. Uhh, my dick, I mean. During heat. I’m good about it outside of heat, though,” he adds hurriedly as if that’s going to make anything better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is absolutely no audible reaction from the Alpha, so Dean dares to look up again. All the Alpha does is blink at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘S not disobedience, I swear. And I don’t mind if you, you know, put it in a cage. ‘S what Master Lucifer did so that he didn’t have to deal with it and it’s - it’s fine, really,” Dean trails off, not sure that his scent isn’t screaming how very not fine it is, no matter how much he tries to convince himself of the opposite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha rubs a hand over his face, massaging his temples. His scent is dark, though it’s also wavering, more volatile than it is when he has murderous intent towards his brothers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M sorry, Alpha,” Dean whispers. He knows he’s a failure, but he still didn’t want to make the Alpha this upset. “I can try to be better for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha groans. “Dean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean bites his lip, but he looks up at the Alpha because he knows Castiel wants him to and he can be good with this at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel takes a deep breath. “I like dick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blinks, mind whirring to a stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha gives him a small self-conscious smile. “Remember when you teased me about being </span>
  <em>
    <span>versatile</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I told you that it was a talk for another day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. It seems like a lifetime ago, this very first attempt at banter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I guess that day is today.” The Alpha takes a deep breath as if to draw strength. “Back when I still tried to - I dated both beta women and beta men. And when my partner had a dick, it’s never once turned me off, Dean. In the opposite. I quite, uhh, enjoy the things that can be done with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean feels his eyes widen even more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There must be apprehension in his scent because Cas shakes his head, “Pleasure, Dean, not pain. I, uhh, I’ve enjoyed giving head before, as much or maybe more than I enjoy receiving it. And, uhh,” the Alpha flushes crimson, “I’ve bottomed a time or two, too. With the right partner and the right preparation, I’ve found it quite enjoyable to get fucked,” he finishes, voice wavering but scent getting more determined. “So believe me when I say that you getting an erection is not going to present a problem for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean knows he’s staring, but he can’t do anything else. There are no words in his mind, just a static buzz.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shrugs uncomfortably. “I understand that it’s quite a big social taboo, an Alpha who enjoys anything other than penetrating, and I would never expect you to be okay with, well, with these acts or any others for that matter. Hence my question. If you’re so deeply out of it in your heat as you were in the last few days, there is no way for me to ask you what you need from me while things are happening. Which means that it’s all the more important that we talk about it beforehand so that you can tell me what you want. Whether you want me to stay with you or whether you’d prefer if we got you those fake knots that house staff use for their heats. I mean, of course I could also stay with you and you could still use the fake knots, I’d just have to - I’d have to keep really tight control of myself. I might need a door between us while you, umm. But I could come back for cuddling after. And there’s the matter of foods and drinks, and what kind of fabrics you can tolerate on your skin and…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel talks ever faster the longer the speech goes so this time it’s Dean, who puts a hand on Castiel’s arm. “Cas. Breathe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Oh yes.” Castiel takes a long deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to sharing this particular detail about myself. It’s quite scary. I don’t want you to think less of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean quickly shakes his head because, no, that’s not it. “Think you blew my mind into little pieces, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas chuckles somewhat self-deprecatingly. “I definitely didn’t expect this conversation to happen today. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, definitely no. It’s just -,” Dean thinks about how to word this for a moment. “‘m used to being a warm hole,” he says softly. “To taking whatever is given without, y’know, getting anything much for myself. And the fact alone that you’d be okay with me, umm, getting hard - kinda a game-changer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas’ eyes turn wide. “Dean, are you telling me that you need an erection to get off and that they punished you for it? Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>during heat</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Alpha’s scent is murderous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s not even scared, but he still grimaces. “Good omegas don’t do that. They don’t get their pleasure from that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were their </span>
  <em>
    <span>pet</span>
  </em>
  <span> and they didn’t allow you…” The sentence breaks off in a growl, Cas apparently not hearing Dean at all when he says that it’s not how an omega should get off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But even beyond that… Dean shrugs uncomfortably again. “A pet’s pleasure is the Master’s to permit or not. And to be honest, outside of heat, it wasn’t really that much of an issue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you were starved and in pain. You were never aroused,” Cas states like he’s flabbergasted, even though Dean’s pretty sure that he’d already told the Alpha as much when they’d talked about how Dean’s body reacts to Cas. “Did they at least - synthetic slick?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean turns his eyes away, which is apparently answer enough because the Alpha actually gets up to turn to the wall and let out a growl that makes his whole body tremble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean checks in with himself, but he’s still not very scared. He is getting worried, though. He’s seen the Alpha upset on his behalf, but he’s got the feeling that the burned smell is getting worse every time they talk about something like this. Maybe it’s got something to do with the bond they’re forming, either making the Alpha’s feelings stronger or allowing Dean to scent the full brunt of his emotions more clearly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re already dead,” he reminds the Alpha. “They’re not gonna come want me back. You don’t actually have to kill them all over again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That draws a noise out of the Alpha that is almost inhuman in its quivering edge between rage and sorrow. “I wish I had killed them years ago. I used my privilege to close my eyes when I could have helped. I’m such an idiot.” He growls again, this time at himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas!” Dean tries to break the spiral. “Look at me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart stops for a moment when he notices how much like an order that came out. But it works. The Alpha actually turns around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you see me as a warm hole to use?” Dean challenges. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No, of course not,” the Alpha answers, murderous dropping off towards bewildered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you plan on using me like that when I’m in heat?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just answer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Dean, why would you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> think that. Of course I don’t. Of course you </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That’s my whole point. You’re doing good. Stop beating yourself up about something which neither of us can change.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha visibly deflates. He leans back against the wall as if it’s suddenly hard to stay upright. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean takes a deep breath. “I want you to stay with me. During my heat. And I can’t promise you I’ll be completely coherent. I - I was never before as deep under as in the past few days. But I know that it always was a lot of work, dragging myself back up to the surface again and again cause it wasn’t safe not to. I still had to hear the orders and obey or be punished, back then. So I don’t know - I’ve got no idea what’s normal or how it’s gonna be with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe the doctor can tell us,” Castiel says quietly, voice exhausted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, maybe,” Dean nods and goes over to the Alpha, who follows his every step with his eyes. Dean keeps his palms turned outwards, but he doesn’t cower. He doesn’t think that’s what Cas needs from him anyway. Instead, he tries to calm his breath and keep his head high. He doesn’t stop until he’s in the Alpha’s personal space. “Can I hug you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s barely asked when the Alpha’s arms already wrap around his waist. It makes Dean chuckle as he wraps his arms around the Alpha’s shoulders in turn. Yep, the Alpha had definitely needed a hug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The way they’re standing, the slight height difference between them comes into play, Cas’ head ending up on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s nose in Cas’ hair. It’s okay, though. There are still some charred remnants of his anger and frustration clinging to the Alpha, but he calms down minutely with Dean wrapped around him. And yeah, Dean can keep his Alpha wrapped up in a safe space. At least right here and right now. It feels good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses a kiss to the Alpha’s hair, revelling in how it makes the Alpha hold on tighter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s like the Alpha really doesn’t mind. When Dean is headstrong or has requests or is the one to have his arms wrapped around the Alpha and hold him close because the Alpha is upset. It’s - not a concept Dean has ever considered before. Any initiative he ever had was brutally squashed. Even when he was a pup, before the training center and the manor, if he’s honest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So this is new. Very very new. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which - if he applies that concept to sex, maybe that really can be new, too? The thought feels too weird to say out loud, so he just holds Castiel a little tighter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But one thing he definitely knows now is that he was wrong. He’d thought that it would be okay if that part hurt. And that was wrong. Because yeah, it would be okay for Dean because he’s used to hurting and he’s pretty sure that Castiel wouldn’t hurt him just for the fun of it. So that was enough for him. But it wouldn’t be for Castiel. Hurting Dean like that? The Alpha would hate himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s gonna have to rethink everything.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Full disclosure: I don't have as many finished chapters in the queue right now as I would like. But real life has been kicking my ass lately. There's the whole pandemic thing of course, and then some work stuff, and then our family dog died this week, and yeah, writing has been slow. I'm going to try to keep up the weekly schedule we all got used to, but if I don't manage, I'm gonna need you to extend some kindness here, because it's been a lot and you have the power to make me cry, but I'd much rather you'd choose not to. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Updates will be every other week for now. Thank you for being so understanding and for all the kind words you sent me! They are much appreciated! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eventually, they manage to let go of each other enough to sit back down and eat the rest of their sandwiches. Somehow, their chairs have migrated closer, knees touching under the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once, Dean’s got the feeling that it is as much for Castiel’s benefit as for his own. The Alpha’s still visibly shaken from their conversation. They don’t get a chance to talk about it, though, because the doorbell rings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean can’t stop his flinch and even the Alpha startles. He looks blank for a moment before his expression suddenly turns harried. “Shit, I forgot,” he curses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. The Alpha never cusses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry. Nothing bad, I swear,” the Alpha soothes, already getting up. “I just forgot. You were feeling better and that took precedence over anything else.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Alpha smiles at him, Dean smiles back and then the Alpha goes to get the door and Dean’s entirely unsure what to do. Other than that he immediately clicks his collar back on. They’re mostly done with their sandwiches, so he takes the plates to the sink. If nothing else, it’ll get him out of the way. Also, depending on who it is, he’d rather not get caught sitting on furniture. Why invite trouble when you can avoid it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the voices filter back to him, it’s clear he wouldn’t have had to worry, though. Because he knows this voice and it doesn’t belong to an asshat like Zachariah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he even manages to smile a little bit when he goes back to the living room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, not only up and moving, but like, up! Not kneeling! Good job, both of you!” The redhead sounds genuinely excited when she slaps Cas on the shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello Miss Charlie,” Dean greets her, though he also moves a step backwards so that she doesn’t get any ideas about punching him in the shoulder, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still just Charlie,” Charlie grins. “Hi, Dean! It’s good to see you again!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You, too,” Dean smiles back, though it’s more polite than true. Not that he dislikes her, she is nice enough. It’s just that he could do without seeing any humans most of the time. Well, Cas has entrenched himself pretty firmly as the exception to that rule. At this point, Dean doesn’t even question that anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you doing?” Charlie asks, tone of voice suggesting that she wants an actual answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes find Cas’, locking gazes for a moment. He smiles before he turns his eyes back down to somewhere around the vicinity of Charlie’s knees. “I’m good, Miss Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thinks about it for a few heartbeats, but then seems to decide that she accepts the statement at least for now, because she abruptly changes the topic. “Heard that you met the mystery brother! I’m quite jealous, actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gabriel?” Dean asks. “He is a mystery?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Charlie grins. “Spoilers! That plotline doesn’t start until what, book four or so?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wrote your omega brother into your books?” Dean asks Castiel, unable to cover up his surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cas rubs the back of his neck. “I had no way to reach him. But my books were getting popular enough that… Well, he couldn’t know it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>writing the books, obviously, but sometimes I pretended that he -,” Cas breaks off, the tips of his ears turning red, before mumbling, “that maybe he accidentally stumbled upon the books and read them and that they brought him a modicum of comfort on lonely nights. Just the knowledge that there are people who don’t forget the brothers they’ve lost.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie smiles at the Alpha, “For an Alpha, you’re pretty okay, Cas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods because he agrees with that, but also, “You should tell him. He’s gonna make fun of you, but you should tell him.” Both Cas and Charlie turn to look at him, but for once, he holds his ground. “He’s gonna call you a sap and joke about it, but secretly, he’s gonna hold your words close to his heart to look at them when no one is watching. You should tell him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Awww,” Charlie looks at him like she’s melting on the inside, her smile much softer than her normal smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “Gabriel is luckier than most, but it’s still hard to have lost your family, Miss Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“True,” she nods and for a moment some incredible sadness passes her face. Then she claps her hands. “But that’s a sad topic and I didn’t come here for sadness. I came bearing gifts.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She does a twirl and a bow, at the end of which she holds out a package to Dean, her arms outstretched ceremonially. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean searches for help by looking at Cas, who shrugs and gestures at Dean to take the gift. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He carefully steps closer and takes the box from Charlie’s hands, holding it gingerly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She finishes her bow with a flourish and straightens back up with a grin. “I promise it’s better than a collar.” When Dean makes no move to open the box, she gestures at the package, "Well, come on. Check it out!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks at Castiel again. The Alpha gives him a smile. "When she's excited, she's bossy. There's no way of stopping her."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's not the permission that Dean had wanted, but then, Castiel is probably not even aware that Dean should be having permission for this and any interaction. "I don't need any gifts, Miss Charlie," Dean says softly and holds the package back out to her. "Alpha Castiel gives me everything I need. More than I need, really." Dean smiles down at his Zeppelin shirt, because point in case. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dude! It's a present! Just open it!" Charlie puts her hands behind her back, making it very clear that she's not taking the box back, but she's also almost vibrating out of her skin with badly suppressed excitement. She actually reminds him of Sammy that way. He could also never stand still when he had an idea that he thought was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best thing ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay," Dean gives in, because the other thing he remembers is that he could never stand to disappoint his little brother when he had that look on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He carefully puts the box on the table to open it. Charlie follows him, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Dean on the other hand wishes that he could actually summon the benevolent older brother feelings he’d had with Sam in similar situations instead of fighting against the slithering dread that memories of </span>
  <em>
    <span>gifts</span>
  </em>
  <span> given to him at the manor want to bring up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes several deep breaths to steady himself. Imagines the pride on Sam’s face when he’d managed to scavenge something that he was sure Dean would actually like as Dean’s birthday present. Like the little toy soldiers they’d played with for years until one by one they all disappeared into the nooks and crevices and vents of the Impala. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The random string of memories of playing with his little brother knocks him off balance. So many good moments. Small ones, maybe, not lasting, but they are so beautiful that they make his chest hurt. He hasn’t managed to bring up anything this </span>
  <em>
    <span>light</span>
  </em>
  <span> from his past in years.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is everything okay?” Charlie has stopped bouncing and Cas is suddenly right beside him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Dean apologizes hastily. “I didn’t want to space.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you still feeling good? Should you go rest? Or sit down at least?” Cas stares at him in a way that makes Dean think it’s only Charlie’s presence that keeps him from putting a hand on Dean’s forehead to check his temperature again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m good, Cas,” Dean grumbles because goddammit, why can’t he get through a ten minute interaction without making everyone worry. It’s really not that hard to open a present. He totally unpacked those clothes earlier and the grocery delivery box the other night without making such a fuss about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would make me feel better if you sat down. I’ll bring you some more juice. Maybe your electrolytes are out of balance,” Cas frowns. He doesn’t wait to see whether Dean actually sits down, instantly hurrying towards the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow. He’s turned into quite the mother-hen,” Charlie says somewhat stunned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looks after Cas for a heartbeat before obediently dropping into his chair. “Can’t get him to understand that he doesn’t have to worry so much. ’m not gonna break cause I don’t have enough </span>
  <em>
    <span>electrolytes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s excitement drops away to something much more serious as she turns a chair around and plops down on it the wrong way, her arms crossed over its back. “It’s because he hasn’t seen it before. He sees your gaunt limbs and thinks a light breeze could blow you over. He doesn’t have the experience to tell him how to look for the grit underneath.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean rubs over his forearms, sudden goosebumps making him wish he’d have his hoodie so he could hide his skin underneath. “But you do?” he asks and it sounds more challenging than he intended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie doesn’t take offense, though, or at least there’s no outwardly hostile reaction. “Yeah, I do. I know plenty of omega survivors and they all have the same look about them that you do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All omegas are survivors,” Dean mumbles. Well, the ones that are still alive anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“True,” Charlie nods. “But I was talking specifically about those that we managed to get away from the violence our society deems normal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>part of the resistance,” Castiel states and puts three glasses of juice on the table before sitting down. He frowns, scent unhappy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got a problem with this?” Charlie asks harshly, though Dean thinks that the aggressive tone covers a flinch of surprise at Cas already being back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I have a problem with this if Dean has a problem with it.” They both frown at Cas in confusion, so he adds. “Are you okay with Charlie sitting next to you? We can change places.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arrrrrrr,” Charlie groans and drops her forehead to the table. “You’re the worst, I swear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crinkles around Cas’ eyes clue Dean in that the statement had in fact been an attempt at a joke on Cas’ part. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was well aware of your ties to the progressive movement, Charlie, even if you’ve never told me any details or the extent of your involvement. Please make sure that you’re safe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie nods against the table and doesn’t sit back up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shakes his head. “I may be clueless, but I’m not completely stupid. So there is no need to be dramatic about me overhearing your conversation.” Then he looks at Dean. “My question was serious, though. If you feel uncomfortable, we can change the seating arrangement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean checks in with himself, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel scared by Charlie’s proximity. Maybe it’s because Charlie still gives off exasperated little sister vibes more than anything else. So he shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. You still want me to open this?” It comes out gruffer than he intended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ducks his head but all Charlie does is jump back up from where she was slumped. “Yes! Presents!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckles and draws the box to himself. His fingers shake only slightly when he opens the cardboard container. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a phone inside. Or at least that’s what Dean thinks it is. He frowns as he very carefully lifts the device out of its carton cradle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s an older model than Cas’ phone, but it’s similar enough that it handles the same,” Charlie grins. “Come on, turn it on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I - Why?” Dean asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why turn it on or why did I give you a phone?” Charlie asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, duh. So that you have a phone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But - what for? I don’t need a phone, Miss Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve heard that one before,” she grins. “But believe me, phones do cool stuff these days. You’ll like it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Miss Charlie, I -,” Dean stops, takes a deep breath and starts softer, “Alpha Castiel lets me use his tablet. Like, when I want to find recipes or play music or even just to - browse the internet? That’s what it’s called?” He stops to look at Cas. When Cas nods, Dean smiles. He remembered that right, nice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie’s smile turns softer, too. “And that’s cool because that means you two already went through the basics of new technology, which means our crash course today can be somewhat abbreviated. But Cas’ tablet is Cas’ tablet. And your phone is yours. I mean, you’re on Cas’ phone plan, so there’s that, and I’ve locked a few of the purchase options until you’ve got a better handle of how this works. But otherwise, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Whatever you do on here? Whoever you talk to? It’s your private business. It’s got nothing to do with Cas and he doesn’t need to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean has barely opened his mouth to protest when Cas already says. “She’s right, Dean. Charlie and I talked about this beforehand. She has my full support in this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean closes his mouth again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See? Good Alpha!” Charlie grins. “Now, let’s start making this phone yours by setting a password and adding your fingerprint. And unlike the collar, here we’re gonna make sure that it really is just your fingerprint. Then I can go through the basic functions with you, show you how to call and text. Or Cas can do that if you’re uncomfortable with me. I’ve already programmed both his and my number in. But we’re setting the password first. And you’re going to choose something that neither I nor Cas know or can guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s as much of an order as Dean’s ever gotten from a beta while an Alpha was present. It rankles that she assumes he’s going to listen to her just because. “You know that it makes no difference, right?” he says defiantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He asks, I’m gonna give him that password.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to ask,” the Alpha says before Charlie can answer. “Dean, you deserve your privacy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is so absurd that it makes Dean chuckle. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t believe me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>matter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m an </span>
  <em>
    <span>omega</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Cas. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> me." It's too harsh and he knows it and he sees Cas’ flinch and really, all of this is too much already again. He takes a deep breath to try to center himself. "I’m sorry,” he apologizes to Cas. “I know that it matters to you.” Even if it makes zero sense. But he can give the Alpha this, whether he understands it or not. No more outbursts. “Okay," he turns back to Charlie. "What do I do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks at him dubiously, like she thinks he’s a ticking time bomb and might explode, but when he just quietly waits for her to continue and Cas keeps his lips tightly pressed together and doesn’t say anything, she nods and turns back to business. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leads him through the menu and he follows as best as he can. Cas stays quiet throughout the whole thing, and Dean's not sure whether it should worry him or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey,” Charlie taps a finger on the table next to Dean. "You gotta set that password?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods tightly, bringing his attention back to the phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A password the Alpha can't guess. It shouldn't be too hard. There are plenty of things the Alpha doesn't know. But Dean's drawing a blank. Maybe it is because he's not even sure how he feels about that whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>privacy</span>
  </em>
  <span> notion. Feels unsafe. Like lying to his Alpha. A thing that should be punished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hesitates for another moment and then types </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sammy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shudders. Typing the name, even if he can't see it spelled out because it turns into little stars makes him feel dizzy. But maybe this is good practice. Maybe if he types it here, eventually he'll manage to type it into a search. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Okay, great!" Charlie praises. "Now for the fingerprints. You already know how those work."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is surprisingly smooth sailing from there. Charlie gets close while explaining things, but last time she was here she was touching his neck for what seemed like an eternity so this is nothing in comparison. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shows him the internet browser and the pre-installed apps. There are those social media thingies that Cas said Charlie is in charge of for his author's career. Dean's actually kind of curious about those. He takes it back, though, when Charlie says he needs an email address to register to them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, saying that that’s too much and not needed doesn’t change that Charlie has already picked up on his interest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You have a phone number, you can have an email address and a Twitter account. There’s nothing stopping you. I'll show you how."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie continues talking, explaining a lot of stuff about data protection and tracking cookies that goes right over Dean's head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She finishes with, "So I'd give you an email address from Cas' web domain, but I think we're still going for privacy here, so instead, we're taking one that allows for online anonymity and isn’t tied to Cas’ name. What do you want to be called? Don't choose your real name. Make it something that allows you to be free."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Free?" Dean asks, not understanding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, well, no one's gonna know that you're an omega when you’re online. No one's gonna expect you to be one, either, because as you are well aware, very few people see it as necessary for omegas to have their own means of communication. You can reinvent yourself as this," she gestures expansively, "cloud-shape of a soul without a body. As long as you make sure to never give any identifying features online, you can be whoever you want to be. And I’d like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>recommend you never identify yourself in any public space on the internet."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The concept sounds - intriguing. He's gotta admit that. He had just thought about it this morning, how he has no idea who he is when he’s not his masters’ pet. This could be a way to try it out. Without having to please anyone. Not even Cas. Who Dean knows that he wants to please with every fiber of his being, whether the Alpha demands it or not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up at Cas again. "Are you sure you're good with this?" he asks. Because what  Charlie proposes is more than just unsupervised contact with the outside world. If Dean talks to Gabriel or even to Charlie herself, they’ll still know who he is. They know that Cas owns him. If Dean asks a stranger on the forum of that recipe site about how to best caramelize apples, they'll think he's a free person. If he posts something on that bird app thingy, people will answer him like he’s a person who's never been a pet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Dean?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," Dean cringes. "Got lost in my head again. I didn’t want to miss your answer to my question."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know," Cas smiles, though the smile is tight. Like he expects Dean to drop into incoherence at any minute. "I said that I'm fine with it, but that I'm also here if you need help with something. Technology can be overwhelming."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nods because that's definitely true. He bites his lip for a moment, thinking it over one final time before he turns back to Charlie. "Okay. What do I do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that's how Dean ends up with an email address and a Twitter account that are both </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zepp4ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> and instructions from Charlie how to change his account name if he doesn't want Cas and her to know what it is. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she uses making a profile picture for the account to teach him how to make pictures because apparently phones are cameras, too, these days? Which is how he ends up with his Icarus shirt as a picture that people can see online. Not his face, though. Just the shirt.</span>
</p>
<p><span>And all of this and he still doesn't know how to take or make an actual call. Then his phone makes a </span><em><span>vrrrrm</span></em> <em><span>vrrrrm</span></em><span> noise and it vibrates and he lets it fall to the table with a little yell. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>His heart races while both Charlie and Cas start laughing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Asshole move, Cas,” Charlie scolds while still laughing. “Okay, that’s the noise your phone makes when someone sends you a text message. And since no one but Cas and I know your number right now, I’m pretty damn certain that it was him. But let’s check. See that icon down there? With the little 1? That’s your text messages.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean clicks on it and in fact there is one entry by </span>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel Novak</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Dean clicks again and then there’s a message. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It says: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean smiles down at the message and then up at Cas. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think you can figure it out on your own? How to answer?” Charlie asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Dean concentrates. “Guess </span>
  <em>
    <span>reply</span>
  </em>
  <span> seems like a logical choice.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clicks and a new field and the keyboard pop up. He’s got some experience with typing already by now so that part is not a big problem. He types </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hi Cas</span>
  </em>
  <span> and shows it to Charlie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect!” She praises. “Now hit the little arrow and it’ll send.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hits the button and then there’s a ding from Cas’ phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! First text message sent! And basically without help! Celebratory fist bump!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlie holds out her hand and Dean softly knocks his knuckles against hers. It gives him the strangest feeling of accomplishment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Awesome!" Charlie grins. "Gotta say, I’m kinda impressed. You're getting all of this really fast."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean blushes, turning his eyes down to his lap embarrassedly. "Cas showed me how to do stuff on the tablet. That helps."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sure it does. But you're still getting this really fast. I've taught the same to omegas who have been in service for half as long as you have and they took longer to learn."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"See," Cas says. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> may be biased, but Charlie also sees how smart you are. You'll eventually have to accept it as the truth."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean grumbles something inaudible in answer, his face heating up even more. What is he even supposed to answer to that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t have to answer anything, though, because suddenly, his phone makes a lot of noise. Dean jumps again, but then he sees that Charlie is holding her phone and looking at him expectantly, so he picks his phone up and looks at the screen. There are a big green button and a slightly smaller red button on the screen now, and that’s intuitive enough even for Dean. He hits the green button and cautiously he holds the phone to his ear. “Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very good,” Charlie’s voice says in both his ear and from next to him. She hangs up the call. “I want you to call me later as your final test in this technology crash course. Cas can help you if it’s necessary, but I’m pretty sure you can figure it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t that like - cost something?” Dean says with a frown because when he was a pup calling someone was a thing that cost money.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I put you on Cas’ plan. That means he pays a flat rate for everything and individual calls don't cost anything. It’s not ideal because he can look at your call list if he wants to. But it’s practical because texting and mobile data is also included. So no, it costs nothing. Neither calling nor the internet. You’re using the wifi while you’re in the house, and outside, the internet will just get slow if you browse too much. Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dean nods, though he definitely didn’t understand much of that. But he got that he’s not racking up additional costs for Cas, so that’s good. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect! Alright, guys, this was fun, but I have to run. More things to do, people to save, you know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We know,” Cas says gravely. “Thank you, Charlie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything for my favorite author!” She looks like she wants to hug the Alpha, but then she glances at Dean and aborts the movement. “And for my favorite Dean of course!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean snorts. “You don’t know any other Deans, do you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope,” she grins, popping the p for emphasis. “But I’m pretty sure you’d be my favorite either way.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you think of the story so far! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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